


To Love the Wrong Man

by DustyPhantom



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abuse, Childbirth, Disabled Character, Gore, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Not Beta Read, Prisoner of War, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Trans Ferdinand von Aegir, Trans Male Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, Warnings May Change, Well it's beta read by Grammarly, postpartum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 32,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyPhantom/pseuds/DustyPhantom
Summary: Just before the attack on the monastery, Ferdinand had an affair with the Empire's right hand, Hubert. When the war began, Ferdinand hoped that he could bury that short-lived relationship in history. However, he discovers it is difficult to hide an affair when it leaves you with a child of the enemy. But just as Ferdinand is struggling to take care of an infant, one of the Empire's most dangerous secrets is being threatened.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 31
Kudos: 243





	1. In which a problem arises

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing a multi-chapter fic! I probably won't post regularly! Tags/Ratings/Warnings will probably change at some point. Also, although this is a big fic, I feel the need to emphasize that it is not beta read. I may also edit some parts after it is posted.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn't be happening. 

Ferdinand closed his eyes and turned away. This had to be a dream. But when he looked back, it was still there. That damned piece of paper that was going to ruin his life.

No, this had to be a mistake. Maybe the files got switched up? Maybe the test wasn't working?

But it explained everything. The fainting spells. The vomiting. The swelling. It made perfect sense that he was…

No. This couldn't be! What if his Father found out? What if anyone found out?

When he went to the infirmary, he was expecting some medicine or orders of bedrest, not a smiling nurse with a folded letter of congratulations.

And for the goddess's sake, he was barely nineteen!

It had been two months since the attack on the monastery. In the commotion, the Blue Lions had scattered, fleeing across Fodlan. Ferdinand had ended up back in Aegir territory, living with his father and younger siblings again. 

However, in his time at the monastery, he'd fallen in love with a certain dubious mage, and the two of them had gotten carried away. It broke Ferdinand's heart to watch the man he loved side with the Empire while himself with the Kingdom. And now, as if a final stroke of revenge, that idiot had gotten him…

No. He wouldn't say it. Wouldn't admit that it was true.

But this letter said it all…

Still in shock, Ferdinand picked up the parchment, staring at the bold black words scrawled across it, reading and re-reading until they no longer made sense. He set the letter back down on his bed, sinking to the floor. If anyone found out, he'd be dead for sure. Damn his cursed luck for being born a woman! Damn it all!

He put his hands over his face, not sure if he was hiding from the world or trying to hide it himself. This wasn't something he could go back on, something he could say "whoops what a silly mistake" to and laugh it off. It had been a mistake, but a mistake that would be with him for the rest of his life.

He should have known better. All his life he was told never to have sexual intercourse out of wedlock. Yet he had ignored all of the warnings, and look where it had gotten him.

There was a sudden rap of knuckles at the door. Before he could respond, his little sister threw the door open, "Ferdie! Supper's ready!"

Ferdinand barely spared Klara a look. He really just needed to be left alone right now, and not be pestered by a pair of twelve-year-olds.

"Brother?" Franklin asked from the doorway, "Has something happened?"

"It is nothing you need to worry about."

"Does it have to do with this letter?" Klara asked, accompanied by the tell-tale flap of parchment.

Panic washed over Ferdinand like a cold tide, "Stop!" he yelled as he shot up, but it was too late. Klara looked up from the letter, her face going pale. Franklin read it over her shoulder, and his jaw dropped.

The twins just stared at him for a long moment, unable to comprehend what was going on. 

Franklin was the first one to speak up, "You're… pregnant?"

Ferdinand couldn't move. Couldn't speak. That was the first time someone had said it out loud. So he wasn't dreaming. This was all his reality now. He slowly nodded, trying to hold back tears or insurmountable rage towards himself. 

He'd messed up. And now it was going to become his life.

The twins looked at each other trading horrified stares before looking to their elder brother, "Dad's gonna kill you."

"I know," Ferdinand nearly choked on his words, "So please… do not tell him."

Without looking at him, Franklin and Klara nodded, "Just be down for supper so he doesn't get suspicious."

"Thank you," he responded weakly.

As soon as they closed the door, Ferdinand sunk down behind his bed. It had only been a couple of times! How could this happen? How could it be that he was pregnant?

He put a hand over his still flat stomach. There was a baby in there. A living child, spawn of his worst enemy. He had had sex out of wedlock, and now he was going to pay the price. This baby, his baby was going to be born into a world where no one wanted her. 

********

Klara closed the door behind herself and Franklin. The twins walked a ways down the hall in complete silence before Franklin stopped, turning to lean against the wall. He slowly slid down, a pale hand over his mouth. 

"Oh goddess," he muttered, "Please tell me I'm hallucinating. Just say it was all a dream already."

Klara just stood there, unable to say anything. Even though she was not the one in trouble, her heart slammed in her chest like a battering ram. 

Their brother, the perfect eldest son of Aegir, noblest of nobles, had gotten himself screwed(quite literally), and most likely dead as well. If their Father - No, if any noble found out about this child, the Aegir house's reputation would take a huge blow, one bigger than their Father would be willing to take. Klara didn't even want to think about what would happen if the baby's other parent wasn't another Adrestian noble.

"What do we do?" Franklin asked, eyes desperate, "We have to help him."

"There's not much we can do unless he plans to get rid of the baby," Klara said, shaking her head, "And knowing him, that's off the table."

He clapped his hands over his face, "I know I'm going to say something. I know I'm going to slip up," Franklin murmured.

"You'd better not," Klara hissed, "Ferdie's life is on the line here."

But she knew he would. With Franklin, it was inevitable. He always slipped up, always said things he wasn't supposed to at the wrong time.

"Goddess, just kill me now before I hurt him," he muttered, burying his hands in his knees. 

Klara took a deep breath, "We have to be strong. For him."

She reached a hand out towards her brother. He eyed it silently for a few seconds before reaching up to take it, allowing her to pull him up. They stood, looking at each other for a long moment before Franklin threw himself into his sister's arms.

"It's going to be okay," she said, "We'll make it okay."


	2. In which words do harm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand knew it would happen. He knew he couldn't keep a secret forever. But he didn't expect to be exposed so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of self-demeaning talk in this one, just a warning.

He was showing.

He knew it.

He knew that he didn't have much longer to keep his secret safe.

He heard the whispers of the maids after he threw up every morning. He could feel the stares boring into his swollen body, questioning eyes turning into knowing glances.

It was torturous, knowing that any second someone may say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Knowing that so easily someone could get him kicked from his house. Especially with the twins knowing, his secret was that much more at risk.

But he couldn't think about that now. He just had to keep calm and pretend like everything was fine like he wasn't harboring a secret that could ruin his family's reputation forever.

It was dinnertime. Ferdinand, Klara, Franklin, and their father all sat at the dining room table, eating their supper. Duke Aegir's eyes were trained on his eldest son as he took another helping of turkey and immediately began wolfing it down.

"Ferdinand," he called, "You need to cut down your eating,"

The cavalier looked up, swallowing his mouthful of food, "Why do you say that?"

"Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?" the Duke scoffed, "You're getting fat. I doubt you'll be able to get in the saddle when it's time for you to return to the battlefront,"

Ferdinand put a hand over his stomach. Dear goddess. He knew his father would notice eventually. He knew he couldn't keep this secret forever, and he was surprised he'd been able to hold out for this long. He'd been pregnant for six months, and his stomach was clearly swollen now. He had to say something to put his mind at ease, without the threat of harming his child.

He opened his mouth to speak when Franklin beat him to it.

"It's not his fault," Franklin put in around a mouthful of mashed potatoes

All eyes turned to the boy, their father glaring at him while the other two Aegir siblings sat wide-eyed. No. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He'd managed to keep his brother's secret for so long, he wasn't about to give it away now, was he?

"And why would that be?"

Franklin swallowed his food, his face utterly indifferent as if he were talking about the weather, "Haven't you noticed? He's pregnant."

Ferdinand could feel his world crumbling as soon as the words left his brother’s mouth. Just two words. Two words that had just destroyed everything he had, blowing his world away like dust in the wind.

Duke Aegir's attention swung to Ferdinand, his voice dropping to a menacing growl, "What?"

Ferdinand froze. Denying the claim would be no use. But he couldn't bring any words up, choking on anything he tried to say. He sat silently, avoiding eye contact, hoping it would all go away. Hoping the world, his world, would fall into the oblivion and leave him alone. But that was only wishful thinking.

"Answer me."

He could only nod in response.

The duke became bright red, knocking over his chair as he stood up, hurling a plate at Ferdinand that only missed his head by a hair's breadth.

"You filthy whore! I raise you to be a proper noble and this is what I get?" He stomped over, grabbing Ferdinand by the hair and taking him out of his seat, dragging the boy to the nearest room as he yelped in pain. The twins looked between each other, and then to Ferdinand, eyes horrified.

Ferdinand was thrown against the ground with a heavy thump. He scrambled to his knees only to be kicked square in the jaw, sending him careening to the side.

"Maggot! You were to marry some noblewoman and bring more prosperity to our family! Now you've ruined our name by getting yourself pregnant with some desperate whore's child! You were a disappointment the moment you were born a girl, and now you've become even more of a disgusting excuse for a human!" Another swift blow to his chest, just inches above his stomach, "I'll kill that bastard you've got!"

"No!" Ferdinand shrieked, jumping to his feet, "I will not let you hurt it!"

He dodged a blow aimed for his stomach, just barely managing to duck behind his father and make his way for the door. He slammed his weight against it, stumbling as the door crashed open. Regaining his balance, he bolted for the front door, shouts of fear and rage chasing after him. Ferdinand threw the lock open, charging into the blackness of the night.

The cavalier ran for what felt like an hour but must have been only a few minutes. He stumbled to a walk, gasping for a breath.

He'd only taken a few more steps when he collapsed on the ground, panting and whimpering like the bitch that he was. He was too tired to move, every bone in his body aching from the effort of running. To think that Ferdinand von Aegir, the noblest of nobles, would be sleeping in the woods tonight. And, most likely, for quite a few more nights as well.

No. He was no longer the noblest of nobles. He was no longer even 'von Aegir.' He was nothing. His name, his title, every penny to his name had vanished like the morning dew. He was no more than the desperate whore he was now, poor and weak and getting what he deserved.

********

Klara and Franklin listened as their Father screamed and Ferdinand screamed back. They watched helplessly as their older brother burst out of the room and flung open the front door, charging into the night. They remained silent as their Father spat curses, wishing death upon his own son.

Franklin ran before their Father would turn his rage towards them, yelling about how they should never be like their brother, emphasizing his words with hard slaps.

But they already knew. They already knew what it meant to be like their brother. What would happen if they ever dared to make the same mistakes.

Klara stumbled after him, managing to sneak past the Prime Minister as he continued his fit. She dashed up the stairs, running to the room she shared with her twin brother and locking the door behind her.

The room was completely dark aside from the pale moonlight filtering through the thin curtains. She leaned against the door, letting go of the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding when no footsteps sounded from the corridor beyond. She was safe, for the time being.

Klara took a cautious step forward, her feet silent across the carpeted floor. The all too perfect silence of the room was broken by soft whimpers as she approached Franklin’s bed. She put a hand to her chest, clutching a silver locket that hung around her neck.

She was about to speak when Franklin’s voice came from behind the bed, no more than a whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”

Klara froze. It was his fault. Franklin’s dumb mistakes were the reason why Ferdinand was gone. Why he had been chased from his own home, and forced to flee to who knows where. Franklin was the reason he was gone. Franklin and his stupid slip-ups had finally caused the damage it was fated to. It was only a matter of time until her idiot brother got someone hurt.

She bit her lip, fighting the urge to lash out and scream and hit him. But if there was anything she had learned from this war, it was that fighting your allies got you nowhere. Instead, she sunk to her knees, reaching to pull her twin into a hug.

“I know. But we can't think about that now. We have to help him."

"There's nothing we can do," Franklin whispered, "We're just kids."

"That's what the world thinks," she replied, "And at the very least, we can still have faith in him."

Klara reached for the locket around her brother's neck. It was identical to her own, a simple silver circle trimmed with braided gold. She held out her own, clicking them both open to show the picture of the three of them from so many years ago.

"It'll be okay. We're all in it together."

The two sat there hugging each other for a time that felt far too long yet all too slow at the same time before the telltale sound of a brutal fist slamming against the door sounded.

Franklin pulled his sister closer for only a quick second, whispering, "It's going to be okay. He's going to be okay."


	3. In which pleas are heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a month of trekking across the country, Ferdinand finally finds shelter in an unexpected place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is slowly becoming word vomit. Sorry if the next few chapters are a bit poorer in quality, I'm dealing with some real-life problems right now. I'll try my best to keep updating though!

Ferdinand knocked on the old wooden door. Wind swept around him, throwing snowflakes and unkempt orange locks into his face. He shivered, pulling his tattered shawl closer. He seldom went into Kingdom territory, much less this far north. It had taken him a full moon to get all the way to the Kingdom Capital, avoiding battles and Imperial troops that would surely take his head if they saw him. A full moon of walking endlessly on swollen feet that no longer fit his boots and a constant ache in his back. But finally, he had made it to one of the places that was least welcome for him.

Fhirdiad.

The Capital was struggling under the pressure from the Empire. With Dimitri and Dedue missing and Cornelia in power, the frozen capital threatened to crumble, which would most likely lead to the downfall of the rest of the kingdom as well.

But then again, nowhere was safe for him anymore. In the Empire, he was hunted by his Father and those who wanted the Aegir family gone. Anywhere else, he was Imperial scum that needed to be scrubbed away.

So he went to the last place where he might be safe.

The oak door creaked open under his numb fist. A young woman peeked out at him, her blue eyes confused and shocked at the sight of a man in mere scraps of clothes in the burning snow.

"Is Mercedes here?" He asked, voice shaking. He hated this. He hated feeling like a desperate beggar, pleading for a place to rest. Then again, he wasn't much more than that at this point. However much he wanted to keep his dignity and turn away... well, there was something more than dignity at stake now,

"She is," the monk replied, "Do you know her?"

Ferdinand let out a sigh of relief, which was quickly swept away by the frozen storm, "Yes. We were classmates at Garreg Mach."

The monk was about to speak when another voice came from further inside the church, "Lisabet? I someone at the door? Who on earth would be out in this weather?"

"He claims to be a former classmate of yours."

"Classmate?"

The door was pulled open further to reveal the form of Mercedes. Her blonde hair had been cut back to a short bob, and she now wore a bishop's attire. Her blue-gray eyes went wide when she saw the young noble.

"Ferdinand! What are you doing in Fhirdiad? And out in this weather, no less?" She asked, quickly shooing the young monk from the doorway.

Ferdinand struggled to his knees, placing his hands at her feet so his face nearly met the snow beneath them, "Please, Mercedes. I am in need of shelter. I cannot return home and am in need of a place to stay, at least until I am safe."

He sat there, bowed pathetically at her feet for a long moment. His bright orange mane had grown long and shaggy, and now a sun-bright strand fell unto the snow before him. Despite the warmth of its hue, snow still clung to his messy hair. Yet another painful reminder of his foolishness.

He heard a shuffling of feet, "Come inside."

Ferdinand released the breath he didn't know he was holding. He pushed himself to his feet, tentatively following her into the darkness of the church. Only a few candles were lit inside, casting a soft glow around only small parts of the vast, echoing temple. Their footsteps came from every corner of the room as they walked across the empty hall towards a door that was only cracked open, disrupting the eerie perfection of everything else in the room. He followed Mercedes to the door, which she quickly ushered him through. She followed him, closing the old oak door as quietly as she could. She clicked the lock shut before summoning a small plume of fire to her hand to illuminate the corridor. Ferdinand followed quietly as the bishop led him down a series of halls. It felt endless, trailing silently behind her as his body burned with shame, and his noble pride turning to ashes in its flame.

"Here," Mercedes finally said, pushing open yet another door, "You can stay here until we find a more permanent place for you."

"Thank you," Ferdinand whispered, "I am forever in your debt."

"There's no need for all that. Friends help friends in need," she said, her voice back to its normal, cheery tone, "I am curious, what sent you here?"

Ferdinand took a step back. For all she was doing for him, he knew he owed Mercedes the truth. But not now. He couldn't muster the words. He wasn't ready. Despite the swell in his stomach growing ever larger, he wasn't ready to say it out loud, to accept and let the world know of his failures. He opened his mouth to speak when she cut him off.

"No, it's alright. You must be exhausted from traveling. We can talk once you've gotten some sleep."

He nodded, "Yes. We will talk in the morning. Thank you."

She smiled gently, "Sleep well."

"And to you."

Ferdinand pushed the door closed. The room he was in wasn't particularly large, but it was far too nice to belong to a monk. His eyes focused on the bed. It was the first time he'd so much as seen a bed for a month. He was too lucky to have this. To have friends to care for him and a place to sleep for the night. A bed should not be an uncommon leisure for a noble such as himself- wait. He was no longer a noble. He'd fled his house, and soiled the Aegir name. He was no more than a fugitive now, street scum at the people's mercy. 

But he had to be scum for more than just himself now. It was no longer just his body now. He placed a hand on his stomach, swollen with mistakes and failure and self-hatred and life. However much he hated himself for causing this goddess-forsaken reality, he could never bring himself to hate the child that was growing inside of him. It had been the catalyst for everything that had happened. Had it not existed, he would still be a proud von Aegir noble. But still, he loved this child, and he would protect it with everything he was. 

It was his baby, after all. It was alive and thriving and had a full life ahead of it.

And the last real tie he had to that traitorous scum of a man.


	4. In which friends are found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand finally finds someone who is willing to help, while also dealing with the pain of mood swings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is long and a lot of just kinda drabble. Yeah. Also, there is vomiting, in case that makes anyone uncomfortable, but it's not at all graphic.

Morning came after far too few hours of sleep. And, of course, the tedious sickness. Ferdinand barely managed to haul himself out of bed before he was vomiting the little contents of his stomach into the chamberpot that must’ve been placed in his room earlier that morning.

His room…

It took a second for Ferdinand to regain his bearings. Right. He was in Fhirdiad, and staying with Mercedes. She had been kind enough to offer him shelter until he was well again.

But, of course, she deserved an explanation. For all her kindness, she deserved to know what was happening to him. It would be best for her to know anyway, not that he would be able to hide it for much longer.

The cavalier tried his best to get dressed but eventually gave up on his boots, instead halfheartedly pulling them on without tying the laces or various other clasps that goddess knows why were on shoes. He closed the door behind himself as he left the room, tracking the halls by his vague memory of the way here and the scent of food. Over time, he’d noticed that his already sharp nose had become increasingly sensitive. Another symptom of his condition, he supposed.

It wasn’t long before he found the cafeteria. The entire room smelled of pastries and eggs and bacon, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes and take a deep breath. It had been too long since he had a nice meal.

The morning sun filtered through the large windows that lined two of the walls, illuminating the room with a friendly glow. It was surprisingly warm for the season, making his knees shake. He just wanted to collapse and stay here forever, warm and cozy and without worries of the outside world.

Wait, collapse?

_ Shit _ , Ferdinand thought, reaching to lean against the wall. As soon as his hand touched the hard stone, a wave of dizziness crashed over him, sending his head spinning. He closed his eyes, trying to ground himself on where his hand met the stone wall and his feet the rough tile beneath. 

“Oh my! Ferdinand, are you okay?" Mercedes's voice cut through his tilting thoughts.

"One moment," he managed to wheeze out. The spinning slowed, and his knees regained their fortitude. He blinked, putting a hand to his aching head. It was not the first time this had happened, but it never failed to catch him off guard.

Mercedes placed a hand on his shoulder, "Do you need to sit down?"

Ferdinand shook his head, "No, I will be alright. I just need a little breakfast."

She nodded, her cheerful smile returning as she led him to the food line. There were a decent amount of people in the room, but not to the point that it would be described as crowded. Although many if not most of them must have been bishops and priests, very few wore the traditional attire that signified them as such. 

As they approached the food sitting on the table, Ferdinand realized just how famished he was. All thoughts of decency escaped him as he snatched up eggs and bacon and pastries right and left, piling his plate with all sorts of food that he would normally never even eat. It didn't even fully occur to him until he turned to look at Mercedes, her eyes round with concern.

"My, you must be starving!"

"I am," he laughed self-consciously, feeling a blush spread up his neck.

He followed her to a small table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Ferdinand could now make out that a garden lay beyond the massive windows, which was now painted brown and white by the north's cool grasp. There were glass doors at the bottoms of the windows, leading into the garden, but now they were sealed, preventing the frozen air from seeping inside.

"So, it's been a while since I last saw you," Mercedes said.

"Oh, yes. It has been too long," Ferdinand agreed, swallowing a mouthful of eggs.

"Despite the circumstances, it's nice to see you again," she said calmly.

"Truly," he said, shoveling another spoonful of food into his mouth.

Barey five minutes of idle talk and one-word responses later, Ferdinand's plate was just short of licked clean. 

"You weren't kidding about being starving!" Mercedes laughed, "I'd be sick if I ever ate that much!"

Ferdinand offered an awkward grin, "Yes, well, fulfilling meals were scarce coming up here, especially with the war raging on."

Mercedes sighed, "It's true. We're lucky to be fed here. It's only been seven months, but it feels like it's been years already," she turned to look at him, "That reminds me, how come you were not enlisted into the army?"

"The Aegir family is… not really on any side of the war. We are against the Empire, but the Kingdom does not want us either."

She nodded, "That makes sense. I was wondering if your escape had something to do with the war. You were never one to retreat, though."

Ferdinand could feel his heart dropping in his chest. Well, he would have to explain eventually. But just the idea of telling someone else his secret made him sick.

He made a noise that could only be described as inhuman as he felt bile rise in his throat. Nope. This was definitely  _ sick _ sick. He stood up hastily, which only made the writhing knot in his stomach worse.

"Ferdinand?" Mercedes asked, reaching for his arm. He pushed her away, looking for somewhere he could go.

There. The garden was empty.

He ran for the door, clamping a hand over his mouth. The handle gave, allowing him to fling the door open and run out into the frozen scenery.

Ferdinand fell to his knees behind a wiry bush, no more than branches now. It took a few aching seconds before his body heaved, forcing up the food he had just eaten.

"Oh my goodness! What's going on with you?"

He turned as little as possible to face Mercedes, his entire body aching.

"It is nothing that I cannot manage," he said weakly before turning back around and retching once again.

Mercedes sat beside him, holding back the hair that was long enough to spill onto his face. She'd never seen Ferdinand this weak. He was normally so confident and loud, but now he was reduced to a small, sickly young man.

By the time he was finally done, there was nothing left in his stomach. Well, nothing but despair and a painful reminder of his failures. His head throbbed and body shook, weak and depleted once again. He felt a warm hand on his back, carefully soothing him as if he were a young child. He truly felt like one, on the brink of tears from something that happened so frequently.

"If you tell me what's wrong, I might be able to help," Mercedes said calmly.

Her voice, high but gentle, was such a soothing sound. It made Ferdinand feel as if he could relax and come undone, despite what the rest of the world would think. For all the times he had to stay strong for himself and for his baby, finally he could release that unspoken tension.

Ferdinand turned around to face her, sniffing weakly. It only took a few seconds before he was absolutely bawling, pulling the bishop into a tight hug as he cried into her shoulder. Nobles didn't cry, especially not in front of commoners, but Ferdinand didn't have the capacity to care. He just needed to cry and let out all the emotions and pain he'd been masking for the past seven months.

He sat there sobbing with his arms around Mercedes for at least five minutes before she pushed him back, looking into his puffy red eyes, "Will you tell me what's happening now?"

"I'm just… so thankful that you were willing to help me," he sniffed, "I was scared I would not find a place that would help a former Imperial noble."

"Former?" She asked, "Whatever do you mean by that?"

Ferdinand bit his lip. He was not going to cry again. It would be okay, Mercedes was willing to help him. Surely she would not force him out after learning of his situation?

He took a deep, shivering breath as one hand trailed down to his stomach, "I was exiled from my house after… after it was discovered that I am with child."

She stared at him for a long moment, putting the pieces together of what he had just said.

"Oh, Ferdie," she said, pulling him into her warm embrace, "I should have known. I'm sorry."

"You have no need to apologize," he responded, leaning into her arms, "I am the one who messed up."

"That doesn't matter. What matters now is that you're here and we can take care of you and the baby."

_ And the baby _ . That was the first time someone else had acknowledged its presence without hatred or disdain. Just those simple words warmed his heart. He was among friends now. He was loved, and they would protect him and this child that was growing in his belly. For the first time, they were both safe.

Maybe this could be okay after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it may be a while before I post the next chapter. For most of the ones I've already posted they were at least partway done when I posted the first chapter, but I haven't even started on chapter 5 yet. Also, school's about to start up again and kick me in the ass. So, just a heads-up!


	5. In which there are familiar faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand meets an old friend in Fhirdiad, but seeing them is an unwelcome surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've never personally been pregnant, but from my understanding, it can be really crazy between mood swings and maternal instinct. It may be a bit OOC, but that's my justification.

"Is all of this really necessary?"

"Of course! You wouldn't want to get sick, would you?"

"I have adjusted quickly. I can handle the weather."

She frowned, adding another scarf, "But I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if your baby got sick."

"Okay, fine," he said, "But just so you know, I can take care of myself."

"I know," she answered, smiling now, "I just want to make sure none of my hard work is undone."

Ferdinand rolled his eyes. He was incredibly grateful for the older healer, though. For the past two weeks, she had nursed him back to health, making sure that both he and his child were well. She may as well have been his mother, watching over him almost every hour of the day to make sure he didn't do anything to strenuous or somehow fall ill. She'd only allowed him to start going into the city alone a few days ago since Imperial soldiers occupied the city. They had yet to bother him, and most likely had bigger things to worry about than a runaway noble.

"Make sure to get some bread while you're out!" Mercedes called as he reached for the doorknob.

"I will not forget!" He responded, shooting her a quick grin before walking out the door.

After a few days in the city(at first with guidance) Ferdinand had remembered the way to the places he needed to go. Two rights then a left to the market. Even when the ground was buried beneath many centimeters of snow, the outdoor market stayed open. He'd learned from quite a few sources as well as personal experience that that was where the best bread in Fhirdiad was, if not the whole of the Kingdom.

The walk had become longer with each passing day and centimeters of snow added to the coating of everything in the city. He'd seen snow, yes, but never so much in one place. It was wonderful, in a troublesome, difficult-to-walk way. Despite the inconvenience, it seemed to cover all of the horrible things, hiding the war and Imperial occupancy and all of his own problems under its fluffy white layers.

The market was as busy as usual. Snow and cold didn't seem to bother the locals, who were easy to spot by their thick and unappealing gray coats and shockingly pale skin. He stood out like a sore thumb, between his tanned skin and freckles, alongside the reddish outer coat that Mercedes had lent him. Not that he particularly minded that now. As long as nobody bothered him about it, everything was alright.

"Good morning! Here to buy bread?"

"Yes, please! Do you have any wheat bread?"

"Sure do! Half loaf or full?"

Whenever he came to this part of the market, the bread baker was always a highlight of his day. Despite how glum everyone else was, he always seemed happy and content. Ferdinand admired the man and his ability to always be able to keep a smile on his face, even in the hardest of times. Ferdinand might have been able to do that once, but he feared that was a skill that had left him.

Ferdinand paid for his bread, tipping extra despite knowing better. The bread in his arms was still warm, fresh out of the oven. He wanted to snuggle it close, like one would an infant. Having something that size warm and close to him had made him want to do that recently, however strange it was to want to snuggle a loaf bread.

But he had more items to get. Cuddling with food would have to wait. He reached into his pocket, searching for the scrap of paper he'd scratched the list down on(he had been forgetting so much recently!) as he continued to walk. Somehow, the slip evaded him, as if snaking between his fingers. He frowned, opening his pocket so he could look down into it. There it was! Darn piece of paper!

He was about to finally get it when he felt his head bump into something. A person, by the feel of it.

"My apologies," he muttered, continuing to fish for the scrap as he stepped to the side to pass the person he'd run into.

What he did not expect was for barely a second later be stopped in his tracks as someone grabbed the collar of his coat from behind.

"Hey! What do you think you are-"

"Well now, who do we have here?"

Ferdinand froze. He felt as if he had just been thrown into an icy sea. That voice. The last time he'd heard it he was pushed onto his bed, exposed and... 

No. Just the thought of it made him sick. This was fake. It had to be a dream. There was no way, it was impossible that he was here. The father of this baby, he was in Enbarr, serving her majesty like the dog he was.

Ferdinand's feet dragged in the snow as he turned to face his attacker. His amber eyes went wide as they met pale green, accented with wavy locks the color of raven's feathers and skin as pale as the moon. 

He stumbled back, a hand clamped over his mouth. It was just an illusion, a trick of the light. If he could calm himself, it would go away.

But what illusion could speak and grab hold of him the way it had done mere seconds ago?

"My, Ferdinand, you really let yourself go," Hubert sneered, looking up and down the younger man's body.

The cavalier shook away his initial shock, putting a protective hand over his swollen stomach, "It is none of your business what happened to me."

Oh, except it very much was his business. But Ferdinand could not let him know that. He had to protect this child, if not from the rest of the world then at least from their own father, "Now if you will excuse me."

"Leaving so soon? After so long, I thought you might want to talk to me."

"I have nothing to say to you," Ferdinand growled.

"Oh, but I have so much to say to you," Hubert shot back, lips curling back like an animal's as he grinned, "You know, your own father has placed quite a large bounty on your head. I wonder what that's about? He's offered quite a bit of money for you, but I believe you would be more useful to the Empire."

Ferdinand's heart dropped, flooded with fear. No. This couldn't be. He couldn't go back to the Empire. He was their enemy now. They would hurt his baby. He knew full well what the Empire was capable of, who was helping them behind the scenes. That was why he had left in the first place, so he could be safe from their cruel tactics and operation.

He turned to run, but he knew from the first step that it was useless. Even still, he sprinted as hard as he possibly could. 

"Guards! Capture the runaway!"

It was only seconds before Ferdinand felt hands wrapping around his arms, pulling him back.

"LET ME GO!" He screeched, thrashing uselessly against the guards' grip, holding him securely in place.

Ferdinand couldn't hear the following conversation over his white-hot storm of emotions pounding in his head and his own screams as he struggled to no avail.

"Take him back to Enbarr. I'll follow when I can," Hubert growled.

Enbarr. The Imperial capital. After he'd made it this far, they were going to take him right back to the place he had been trying to escape from the very beginning.

He would not let them take his baby there. Of all the places they could go, that would be the most unsafe. It would be in the Empire, and near those monsters that lurked in the shadows.

In a final struggle, Ferdinand squirmed and thrashed, wrenching himself from the guard's grip. The guard yelped as he pulled away, lashing out like a wild animal. She shrieked as Ferdinand lunged, making for a strike across her face. He was barely a half-second from landing the punch when he was knocked to the ground, the butt of a lance slamming into his ribs. Before he could get up again, the same lance crashed against his head, knocking him out as cold as the snow beneath their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That one was a bit of a wreck, sorry mates. The next chapter will probably be really short, but I'll update notes if I decide to switch shit around.


	6. In which plans are set into motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert contemplates his decisions. The Aegir twins find information that they were not supposed to and come up with a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet(around 2,134 words). My apologies for taking forever to write it! This story is becoming more complex by the day, so I hope I can keep up with my own mind!

The carriage ride from Fhirdiad to Enbarr was normally very scenic. It passed rolling hills of wheat and grass, vast fields of wildflowers and the charming little towns that dotted the landscape. However, this was not true in the early days of the Red Wolf Moon. Instead of rows of flowering bushes and vivid green trees, there were spindly brown branches, twisted and gnarled and looking like the fingers of death itself. 

Hubert hadn't expected to return to Enbarr for quite a while. In fact, his presence would be welcome so soon. He knew he should've just sent a letter since the arrival of Ferdinand didn't need more of an explanation. Even so, he'd returned. With his complicated history with the other man, he may be of some use when it came to extracting information.

Hubert practically shuddered at the thought. His past was full of foolish mistakes, but Ferdinand had to be the biggest of them. He'd given in to his impulses, giving himself something that he could not keep. His feeling towards the other man- it was lust. There was nothing else to it. He cared for Lady Edelgard alone, and anybody who distracted him from her was an obstacle that needed to be eliminated.

He should've just killed Ferdinand then and there.

But, there was a possibility he had useful information, Hubert told himself. There was a reason behind his motives, rather than a foolish on-the-spot decision.

There was a reason for everything he did, and there was a reason for this, too.

It was just pure luck he had found Ferdinand in the city, and now he would be able to use the man to Edelgard's advantage, to use him to aid the side he opposed. 

Though he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to Ferdinand. He had always been so noble and full of himself, determined to be charismatic and nothing like his father. Despite that, he'd gotten fat. His belly was swollen like a balloon, and his small chest had grown full and round. It almost seemed impossible that he'd gained that much weight in only seven moons, especially with how watchful he was of his weight.

Maybe the war had more of an effect on the younger man than he expected. Hubert grimaced as he remembered the look on Ferdinand's face when he and Lady Edelgard revealed their plan. It almost hurt him to see the younger man so damaged. Almost.

But now he had bigger things to worry about, bigger schemes to carry out. And now, with a prisoner who was already weakened for them, their plans might be easier than they expected.

Maybe they would be able to end this war before his time was up after all.

********

Duke Aegir seemed even more irritable than normal. He'd been in a horrible mood since Ferdinand ran off a little over a moon ago, spitting curses at his eldest son every night as he beat the younger Aegir siblings, reminding them constantly to never be like their harlot brother.

Of course, neither of them dared to ask.

Klara sat on her bed, rubbing the burning spot on her back where her father's belt had lashed across her. She'd managed to numb herself before, but his lashes seemed more intense today. Across the room, Franklin was curled on his bed, his face buried in a pillow.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered. That was practically all he'd said to her for the past moon. She'd told him so many times that his groveling helped no one, but he always went back to pointlessly apologizing over something that could not be fixed.

"Stop apologizing or I'll slap you myself," she snapped back, "You're not helping anyone."

Franklin looked up, his cheeks wet and eyes swollen, "Sorry."

Klara promptly threw a pillow across the room, hitting him square in the face. He yelped in surprise, falling back onto the bed. Klara jumped from her own bed, landing her brother's to sit next to him.

"Father may not be a good person, but he's not illogical. He wouldn't start being more aggressive without a reason."

"I guess you're right," Franklin agreed, sitting up, "So what do you suggest we do?"

Klara shot him a devious grin, "We find out what's made him so upset. It might have to do something with Ferdie. Maybe we'll be able to find him."

He frowned, "Are you sure? What if we get caught?"

"What if I'm right and we do get information on where he is?"

"Even if we do know, what are we going to do with that information?"

"We go find him."

"This is even more crazy than normal for you. Are you sure you didn't hit your head?" Franklin asked, "How will we even sneak out?"

Klara grinned, "I've got my ways."

"Even so, we're too young to get far on our own."

"Ferdie's too young to be a dad, yet here we are."

Franklin frowned, "I don't like this at all. And if we get caught, it's your fault."

"Deal."

Franklin pulled his pillow tight to his chest, crossing his legs, "So what's your plan?"

"We sneak into Father's office when his back is turned. If there are any important documents or letters, that's where they'll be. We look for anything related to Ferdie, read it, and sneak back out."

"You make that sound a lot easier than it is."

"That's because you're a scaredy-cat."

"Am not!"

"Then come on! We can do this!"

She slipped off his bed, sneaking up to the door. She pressed her ear against it, listening for footsteps. Nothing. Klara waved Franklin forward, and he came after a few moments of hesitation. She slowly cracked the door open just wide enough for them to slip out, closing it silently behind them. They quickly made their way down the corridor, tiptoeing down the stairs to the landing. Klara leaned forwards, listening for any sign of life. Of all her years of sneaking around and spying, she'd learned to locate where people were in the house by sound alone. If she was right, their Father was in the den. Perfect.

She slunk down the hall, moving low and quick towards the study. Franklin followed apprehensively behind her, spooking at any shadows. He was not adept at sneaking around the house like his sister was. He supposed he was always the shyer, less adventurous one, but he would do anything for his siblings. That is, as long as it seemed like a sane idea. 

They were now across the hall from the study. Klara looked down the hall, listening for any sign of life. When she didn't hear anything, she darted across the hallway, gesturing for Franklin to follow her. Once he successfully crossed, she reached for the door handle, holding her breath. She let out a sigh of relief as it turned, pushing it open to slink into the dark room.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. The room was just as it always was: Half-closed cabinets stuffed with fancy stationery and letters, a wide writing desk against the back wall with a cup of pens in the corner. Every available surface was covered with papers, varying from tax forms to birthday letters sent for the twins in brightly colored envelopes.

"Are you sure we'll have time to look through all of these?"

"We have to. If there's any information about Ferdie, it's in here somewhere."

"But what if there isn't?"

"There is. I just know."

Franklin wanted to complain, but there was no stopping her now as she began digging through the mess of papers. He sighed, submitting himself to helping her.

He was beginning to get nervous. They had been searching for far too long, and Klara's movements were becoming more frantic by the minute. He had moved to a massive pile of papers, carefully sorting through them. He was beginning to think this was a lost cause. If there wasn't anything, they were going to stay here until Father came and beat them out.

And that was when he saw it.

He pulled the next two papers from the stack, held together by a paperclip. The first page was a poster with his older brother's face drawn on the front. He gasped when he read what it said.

"Have you found something?" Klara asked excitedly. He could only nod, ushering her over. She looked over his shoulder, eyes going wide as he read.

_ WANTED:  _

_ Ferdinand von Aegir _

_ Dead or Alive _

_ 100,000 G _

Franklin was speechless. Their own Father had placed a bounty on their brother's head. Dead or alive. He didn't care if his own son was killed. Franklin almost couldn't believe it.

"Oh Goddess," Klara whispered, "Go to the next page."

Franklin pulled away the top page. The one below it was objectively more horrifying. 

_ Heinrich von Aegir, _

_ I have seen your wanted posters around Enbarr as of late. I am confused and appalled as to why you would want your own son dead, but I figure that will come out in due time.  _ _ However, I do not plan to assist your efforts. We have captured your eldest son from Fhirdiad, and he will now be held in Enbarr. If you want him back, we do not ask for money, but for you to submit to the Empire. Should you refuse, we will keep Ferdinand and use his information to destroy your coalition from the inside out. _

_ -Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg _

Franklin wanted to cry. The Empire had their brother. They were going to use him to destroy everything he had worked for. And what about his baby? Since they didn't mention it, he could only assume the Empire didn't know. He shivered just thinking of what they were going to do to Ferdinand and his unborn child.

But there was little time to think as they heard heavy footsteps approaching the door. Franklin turned to Klara, eyes round with fear. If they were caught, surely they would get the whipping of a lifetime. Klara snatched the papers from his hands, slipping them back into the paperclip and replacing them on top of the stack of papers where they had found it. She quickly dove under the desk, frantically waving for Franklin to join her. He didn't have much of a choice, ducking beside his sister. Just as he was completely hidden under the desk, the door flung open to reveal their Father. His face was still twisted into his enraged grimace, and his hand clenched tight around a candle plate with a lit candle atop it. 

Franklin turned to Klara, waving to get her attention. For the times when they needed to hide from Father, or if Klara had gotten them into a risky situation, the von Aegir siblings had established a means of silent communication. A language only understood between the three of them, though with no official name was called the Secret Aegir Code.

_ 'What now?' _ he asked.

_ 'We wait.' _

_ 'He could be here all night.'’ _

_ 'He won't. Trust me.' _

_ 'I've trusted you enough for today.' _

She rolled her eyes,  _ 'then what do you suggest we do?' _

_ 'I don't know. You're the smart one.' _

_ 'Then leave the planning to me and wait.' _

_ 'Fine. But it's your fault.' _

The two sat completely still, barely even for what felt like hours. Franklin was just about to give up when their Father finally got up, leaving the room with a deep growl and cursing Ferdinand's name once again. Once they could hear him walking up the creaky stairs, the twins shifted out from underneath the desk. They just stared at each other, too overwhelmed to form words as the memories of what they had seen flooded back. 

Ferdinand was in danger. Father wanted his head, and he was in the clutches of the Empire. No matter who had him, both he and his baby were in danger.

"Oh Goddess," Franklin muttered, slumping against his sister, "He's gonna die. Someone's gonna kill him."

"No, they won't," Klara said firmly, "I have an idea."

Franklin looked up, his body heavy from emotional exhaustion, "What do you suggest?"

"We infiltrate the Empire."

"You've officially lost your mind."

"What else can we do? Leave him to die in the Empire, or have some bounty hunter bring back his corpse?"

Franklin shivered at the thought. It was terribly dangerous, and destined to fail… but he couldn't allow that to happen without even trying to save his brother, could he? And what about his brother's unborn child? The future heir to House Aegir? He couldn't let them die. He wouldn't let the family collapse because he was too afraid to help. He took a shaky breath, "We can't let that happen. We have to go save him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, the next chapter is going to be on the gorier side(note the childbirth tag). I'll put a summary and possibly medical terms in the endnotes for y'all who don't want to read that kind of stuff.


	7. In which he meets his light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand finally meets his baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw it this was one of the first chapters I finished I'm gonna post it now.  
> Disclaimer: I am not currently, nor have I ever been pregnant. I also am not a doctor or in medical school, so don't quote me on anything.  
> I said this in the notes of the last chapter, but this one is going to be gory(note the childbirth tag). For those who don't want to read it because of that, I will put a better summary in the endnotes.

Ferdinand wasn't sure if it was day or night. He had been locked in this dungeon for so long that he'd lost track of time. Between his discomfort and worry for his unborn child, sleep had evaded him. He couldn't imagine surviving another whole month of this.

He rolled onto his side on his tiny mattress as a twinge of pain squeezed his stomach. They'd been on and off for a little more than, what? Probably a day. They never stayed for very long, though. Not long enough for him to worry.

Soon, the ache faded. It always did. He put a hand over his stomach, tracing the stretch marks he'd memorized through the rough shirt. He was due in about a moon and a half, though he couldn't remember the exact date. Surely the empire had noticed his belly being as swollen as it was. Yet still, he remained in this dungeon. He was lucky that he'd been here for more than a week(he guessed) but had not yet been interrogated, or even so much as visited by anyone important.

They were probably waiting until he was too weak to refuse their demands.

What must have been ten minutes passed. Another cramp seized Ferdinand's body, this one more powerful than the last. His face pinched at the feeling. A twinge of hunger, he supposed. They were barely feeding him enough for a normal person in this cell, much less someone as pregnant as he was.

Only another reason to worry for his child. He was so nervous that his living conditions would hurt them. And, with their life still being as fragile as it was, he feared it may kill them. But they were still there, kicking in the womb even now. 

It was an odd feeling, the gentle thump from inside of him, pushing out against his stomach. Yet at the same time, it was reassuring, proof that his baby was still alive and well.

Another cramp, this one even more intense. Ferdinand sat up, putting a hand over his tight stomach. It was rare that even his menstrual cramps got this bad. 

He waited until the cramp passed before standing up again. His legs were shaky and unstable beneath his ever-growing weight, not that being confined to this tiny prison cell and being constantly malnourished helped at all. 

Ferdinand recalled Hubert's snide comment on how large he had become. Not that the mage probably knew of Ferdinand's situation. Or cared. On the few occasions that they had gotten down to the act with each other, Hubert never kissed him. Never said a word of gratitude or appreciation or affection. It took far too long for Ferdinand to realize that Hubert had not loved him then. He never had. He was simply using the cavalier's body to satisfy his hunger. He never planned to have a child with Ferdinand, never planned to settle down and share his life with the younger man.

But once Hubert knew he had a child, what would he do?

Ferdinand shivered. He already knew the answer to that. This child might be evidence that he was ever disloyal to the empire. They would be killed the moment their father knew they existed.

But that wouldn't matter. Ferdinand would escape before this child was born. Before they had a chance to meet their father. He had to protect them, after all.

The cavalier let out a sudden gasp of pain. His hand squeezed the metal bar of his prison cell, knuckles turning white as tears sprung to his eyes. He'd never felt anything like this before, this horrible squeezing pain around his all-too-large abdomen. It was like a period cramp, but so, so much worse. 

Could it be that…

No, that wasn't possible. He wasn't due for another moon at least. His baby couldn't be born yet. Not here, not now.

Ferdinand leaned his head against the bars, waiting for the pain to subside. This one lasted longer than the previous ones. He wiped away the offending tears from his eyes. No. He was alright. There was nothing to cry about. It wouldn't be much longer until he'd have an opening to escape, a chance to free himself and his child from this dungeon.

He sighed, sinking to his knees. But was it even worth the attempt? If he failed, surely a fate much worse than this dungeon would befall him. Not that an escape attempt had any promise in the first place. Being this large, it would be near impossible to sneak anywhere, much less out of the heavily guarded imperial prison.

No! He could not think like that! There was still a chance for him to escape, for his baby to be born free of the Empire's wrath.

Though they never truly would be. The father of this child was none other than the Emperor's right hand. His child would never be able to completely escape the Empire as long as their parent's shadow was cast over them. The bastard child of the future Prime Minister and the Minister of the Imperial Household. What an odd thought, that people as important and noble as them would break social laws and bear a child out of wedlock…

Ferdinand had to bite his lip to keep from screaming out in pain as another powerful cramp washed over him. He could barely breathe as his body convulsed with agony. The little contents of his stomach came back up, burning his throat and mouth as he vomited across the cold stone floor. He couldn't move, pain tearing across his stomach and down his thighs. The world seemed to swirl in front of him, becoming a muddled mess of pain and fear and nausea. Hot tears stung his eyes as he fought the urge to cry out, fought to remain conscious under such unbearable pain.

The cavalier gasped for air as the cramp loosened its grip. This was no longer normal. He had to get help, get some relief to this pain.

Ferdinand shuffled his feet under himself like a newborn foal, awkwardly trying to stand up. His legs shook as if he hadn't stood in moons, weak from the effort of the cramps. It was when he finally stood up that he realized something was horribly wrong.

Blood. All down his pants and pooling on the floor below him. It mixed with thick, clear fluid, drenching his pants and spilling onto the cool stone beneath.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn't be happening.

Those tears that had beaded in his eyes broke free, running free down his cheeks.

His fate was sealed. This dungeon, this cold, dark place would be where…

No. This must be a dream. His baby wouldn't be born for another moon at least. That was all he needed. Just that last moon to prepare, to escape this hellhole so his baby could be born happy and warm and safe. He wasn't ready. He didn't want to bring a child into this world, cold and alone and weak.

But it seemed his baby disagreed.

Ferdinand wailed, his body convulsing as muscles squeezed his round belly. He collapsed to his knees once again, his entire body shaking with effort and pain. Instinct kicked him to assist those muscles, pushing with the gripping pain.

"Please, just one more moon," he begged helplessly to his stomach, "Just one more moon so you can be safe."

The cavalier dragged himself onto the hard bed, panting with the effort of such a small motion. He struggled to yank off the thin prisoner's pants as another wave of pain swept over him. Instinct flooded his body, practically commanding him to spread his legs and push with the agonizing squeezing.

He hated this. Even though he knew he had to now, he always hated spreading his legs. The sensation of being exposed and submissive reminded him all too much of how he was betrayed by the man he loved, and how he ended up with this child in the first place. Once again, he was vulnerable, weak to the Empire's wrath.

But this worry wasn't just for himself anymore.

They were going to hurt his baby. The Empire would have to know they existed now. Surely they would use them, use his own child to try to force secrets he didn't know out of him. And Hubert… if he found out he fathered this child, he would most certainly urge for it to be killed.

Ferdinand tipped his head back and screamed, howling in pain as his body squeezed tight around the form inside of him. Tears spilled openly from his eyes now, running down his cheeks which were flushed from the effort. He felt his legs being pushed further apart as his child prepared to come into the world. Terror coursed through his veins as the contraction subsided, giving way to a burning sensation between his legs. Was something wrong? Was he going to die before he even met his precious baby?

No, certainly he wouldn't. Fate would not be that cruel.

But he knew his own mother had died in child labor…

Panic shot through him again. What if he did die? If there was any chance of his baby living, it would certainly disappear like morning dew if he passed. They would have no reason to keep the child alive if they had no father to bribe.

Ferdinand tried to sit up, but as he did another wave of pain rushed over him. It was suffocating, forcing all of the air out of his body as it constricted his stomach. It was nothing short of torture, writhing in agony to give life to a child who would live only to torment him.

The cavalier cried out again, his body squeezing with all of the power it could muster, heaving and convulsing as it used the energy he didn't have.

But this one was different.

Ferdinand gasped as the contraction ended abruptly, releasing its death grip on his body and the pressure between his legs.

A few moments passed before soft wail sounded, but it was not his own. It was too quiet, too high-pitched to be that of another prisoner.

Ferdinand felt a fresh wave of tears rolling down his face. He pushed himself up, slowly reaching to pick up the tiny form with shaking arms. Blood pooled between his legs, but that didn't matter to him as he wrapped his arms around the small body. His little baby girl. She was wet with blood and fluids, her body flushed and wrinkled as she cried weakly. 

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He pulled her close to his chest, sobbing as she began to settle into his arms. This was her. The human that had been growing inside of him for so long. She was finally here and alive and breathing.

Ferdinand blinked, his vision blurring as he pressed a soft kiss against her wet forehead. His perfect baby girl.

"Hello there, little one. I have been waiting to meet you."

The cavalier sighed, exhaustion pulling at his body. He had to stay awake. He had to keep protecting her. But he was  _ so tired _ . She was more important than that, more important than his own needs, his own life…

The thought trailed off as Ferdinand's vision grew darker and his limbs heavier with every passing second.

_ It will be alright. I will just close my eyes for a quick second… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who didn't want to read this chapter because gore: Ferdie gives birth to a baby girl alone in the Enbarr dungeons. He faints soon after due to medical conditions.  
> Babs is born 4-5 weeks early, for those who are curious.  
> *Medicals Terms*  
> In case you were wondering, Ferdie has a placental abruption. That's when the placenta detaches too early, which can be dangerous for babs because their nutrient supply is cut off, and dangerous for mum because that causes an open would of sorts that can bleed out. The way the body normally deals with the wound is to contract back to its normal size, but since there's still a baby in there it can't do that quickly enough, hence bloodloss.  
> As I said before, I'm not a medical professional, don't quote me on shit. But if you want to know more, here's a link to a YouTuber who is a medical professional.  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrPhcbDwqWRc-3tteE2BS6g


	8. In which they meet the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not posting in a while! I've been sick and wrestling my way through making up midterms, so I've been a little out of the mood. I'm probably never going to post regularly(HS is wild), but I hope I can establish a bit more of a pattern.  
> Also, after posting the last chapter, I realized I messed up and revealed the baby's gender in the first chapter. Just a fun little thing.

Evening tea with Lady Edelgard had always been something Hubert enjoyed. When he'd been away doing the less pleasant work of the Empire, it gave him an opportunity to catch up with the Emperor on daily news and the like.

Today, however, was very different.

"Sorry I'm late," Edelgard said as she entered the small room.

"No need for apologies," Hubert answered coolly, "I'm sure you had your reasons."

The Emperor took her seat across from him, pouring herself a cup of tea. Of course, it was no ordinary blend, certainly not something one could find at the market. It was mixed with various poisons, brewed with small amounts of nightshade leaves. Just enough that she was immune to any subtle poisons an assassin might try against her.

"Is there any news from Cornelia?" He asked, pouring some tea for himself.

"Not much," she responded, "the plan is carrying out as expected. She doesn't miss your presence."

Hubert laughed, "As expected."

"Have you gone to see Ferdinand today?"

"No, I haven't. I don't think there's much to worry about though. He's probably still moping like a fool."

Edelgard nodded. While she hadn't personally gone to see Ferdinand in the dungeons, she'd heard reports from the guards. He was tired and depressed, rarely so much as talking. The clothes he wore were tattered when he came, and he'd grown significantly- in a horizontal direction, that is, "It almost makes you wonder how he even got like that. Ferdinand is so proud, you'd think he would take better care of himself."

"It is rather curious," Hubert mused

"I'd almost say I'm-"

It was just then that the door creaked open. On the other side was a guard, huffing and puffing as if he'd just sprinted a mile.

"Do knock next time," Hubert scolded.

Edelgard stood up, walking over to the guard, "Has something happened?"

The dark mage took a sip of his tea. Knowing how flighty some of the guards could be, it was most likely nothing to worry about. Her Majesty had always been quick to worry over the castle guards.

"I-I'm sorry for the intrusion," the guard said, gasping for a breath, "But von Aegir…"

The guard fell into a coughing fit, cutting off his sentence.

"What happened to Ferdinand?" Edelgard asked, more harshly than before. Had something terrible happened to him? He didn't sound well in their descriptions of him, but she didn't think he was sick enough to drop dead.

"V-von Aegir… has delivered a child."

Hubert spat out his tea.

"What?"

"We had no idea," the guard insisted, "We heard screaming, and when we came, he had a newborn."

"Where are they now?" Edelgard asked, "The infirmary?"

The guard nodded.

Edelgard spun around to face a dumbstruck Hubert.

He was pregnant the whole time? Well, it made perfect sense, with his ever swollen stomach. A baby was a big secret to hide. Did Ferdinand himself even know of his condition? He wouldn't be surprised if the idiot noble had never noticed.

"Hubert, come on. We're going," the Emperor said. Hubert nodded, following her quickly and silently down the halls to the infirmary.

Ferdinand. Their old classmate, the noblest of nobles had gotten himself pregnant out of wedlock, and with no partner to speak of. Goddess, everything about this was unlike him. It did explain his uncharacteristic depression, but how could it be that he had a child? Who could have been the father? Not only that, but she was scared for him. Yes, they were enemies now, but they were friends once. She couldn't just let him die like this, just after having a baby. Oh, everything about it hurt her in ways she couldn't describe.

Nurses and healers were fussing all over the place when they entered the infirmary, rushing for supplies when one finally noticed the Emperor and her right hand.

"Is all of this fuss about Ferdinand?" She asked, "What happened to him?"

"The baby was born prematurely, and Ferdinand lost too much blood. He fainted shortly after giving birth, but he should be alright. The baby, however," she sighed sadly, shaking her head, "she survived, but she's very weak from malnourishment. We're not sure if there's anything we can do."

"Can we see her?" Edelgard asked.

The nurse's eyes went wide at the question. She hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yes, I suppose so."

The nurse led them to a small room, lit dimly with candles. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so, and in the middle stood a single cradle. Hubert approached slowly, almost cautiously. The wood was smooth, carved as if it held a noble child rather than the sickly newborn babe of a traitor. 

Hubert dared to look into the cradle, fighting the urge to end the life of this child before he even saw it. He already hated this child, but she would be of more use to them alive.

But inside was not Ferdinand's insipid grin or his painfully cheery personality. It was a baby, new and tiny and impressionable. She was small, too small to be full-term. Her tiny hands poked out of the blanket she was swaddled in, but Hubert didn't dare reach for them. She was still her father's daughter, and he couldn't let himself become infected with that intoxicating charm again.

The little hair she had was a light copper, and although she was flushed from birth, it was clear she would be as pale as the moon.

Edelgard joined him, peering at the tiny girl inside.

"Should I kill her now?" Hubert asked, "It would be the simplest way-,"

"No," Edelgard cut him off, "We should raise her in the empire."

"I see," Hubert smirked, "We use maternal instinct against him?"

"Yes. We should test her for a crest as soon as possible. It would be useful to know who her other parent is. If they are part of the empire, give them the child. If not, we can only hope the other parent has an emotional attachment we can use."

"I like the way you think, Lady Edelgard," he said, "But I feel finding her crest would be pointless."

"Why do you say that?"

"Look at her," he gestured to the baby just as she stirred, "She's Sylvain's child. She has his hair and skin color typical of the north. Besides that, who else could it be? That man would go down on anyone who so much as has a vagina."

"I suppose you're right," she said, not taking her eyes off the baby, "But just in case, we should get her tested."

Hubert frowned, "I don't recall him having any… affairs, but it appears that he may have been more secretive than we originally thought."

That wasn't true. Far, far in the back of his mind, the mage had hidden memories. Memories of sneaking off with the young cavalier in the dark of night, their artless and desperate touching as if there were no tomorrow. But it wasn't possible that he gave life to this child. He'd been very careful, too careful. A child could not be produced by a foolish young crush. It simply didn't happen. On top of that, it was essentially impossible for Hubert to produce children to begin with.

Edelgard left the room. She couldn't stand to be around that child. Yes, she was the baby of an enemy, but also that of a former friend. She was far too young to survive on her own, and now her father was too weak to take care of her. Edelgard knew war was dangerous and deadly, but the children did not deserve to suffer. They had done nothing wrong. And yet she had jeopardized this child's life. How many others had she hurt? How many more was she going to hurt? She would never know. She shivered, remembering how she had been hurt for the sake of someone else. Her family, killed by adults who only sought to hurt them out of hate and spite.

No.

This baby, Ferdinand's child would survive.

And they would use her so they could end this war as quickly as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized I might have made some weird choices in the upcoming chapters, but I hope y'all still like them!


	9. In which she takes the future into her hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard makes a decision with dangerous potential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I made a bit of a weird choice in this chapter, but trust me when I say there's a reason I did it.

Manuela frowned as she looked over the child. When she'd gotten wind of the existence of this baby, she'd rushed to Enbarr as fast as she could. She never cared much for children, but she was fully aware of how important this baby could be. And, although she'd never specifically called for her, Manuela knew it would put Edelgard at ease, knowing she was here.

But it appeared she came for a lost cause.

"Has she been fed?" She asked. The lack of pudge on the babe suggested a negative answer.

"She refuses goat's milk, but we've managed to get a little bit into her," one of the nurses said.

Manuela sighed. Such an influential child, but such a waste of time. She was tiny, much smaller than a child of her maturity should be. Although she could make noises, her lungs were weak and underdeveloped. When Manuela had finally found her heartbeat, it became clear that the muscle had a sizable hole. Although it could heal on its own, she feared it would take too long. In addition, the only parent that could nurse her was sick with infection and still unconscious after an arduous labor.

To be honest, they were lucky she was still alive right now.

"Go get Edelgard and Hubert," Manuela instructed one of the nurses, "They should be updated on the situation."

The young nurse nodded, rushing off to get the young Emperor and her right hand. Manuela turned back to the baby, summoning the warm light of healing magic to her hands. As she'd heard said so many times before to her students, there's only so much magic can do before you need medicine. Yes, they had magic and medicine, but there was only so much of each you could use on a single patient before it wasn't worth the resources. If Ferdinand were awake, maybe they could get him healthy enough to nurse her, but that would still be weeks off. They only had a few days tops before this child succumbed to malnutrition. Goat's milk could only cut it for so long.

Soon the doors creaked open again. Manuela turned to face Edelgard. Her solemn façade was cracked by the tiniest frown as she entered the infirmary, making her way to where the nurses were standing with quick but stiff steps.

"Depending on the fact that you called me, I assume something is wrong." Her voice was tight and even as she spoke, masking concern in a way that Manuela knew all too well.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Baby von Aegir here has… more problems than we originally noticed, and that's putting it lightly," Manuela explained, "Weak lungs, heart murmur, and malnourished, to name a few. Trying to keep her alive would be a waste of resources."

Edelgard bit her lip, trying to keep her mask from slipping. She needed this baby to stay alive. Yes, war was dangerous, but she would not let herself be the cause for the death of a child so near to her, "What does she need?"

"Well, medicine, for one. And plenty of time for rest to help finish that bit of gestation she missed. We also need someone to nurse her, since Ferdinand needs to keep all the nutrients he can."

The Emperor looked down at the child, her eyes focusing on her face. She was asleep right now, open and vulnerable and helpless. Edelgard could almost see the outlines of her ribs against all too pale skin. This baby was so, so weak, struggling to stay alive even now. Edelgard had robbed her of her health and her father.

But she would not let this baby die. Not without doing anything.

“Do you have any medicine that would induce lactation?"

Manuela looked up from her papers, "Yes, but that won't help if she doesn't have anyone to feed her."

Edelgard took a shaky breath, "I'll do it."

"What?"

The Emperor reached for the baby's hand, "I'll take care of her. At least until her father is stable.”

“Lady Edelgard, you can’t be serious,” one of the nurses said, “If anyone were to find out about this-”

“I know,” she responded, "but I cannot sit here and watch this child die."

Manuela bit her lip. She tapped her fingers on the table, trying to find a way to approach this. She knew Edelgard meant what she said. The young Emperor never said anything without thinking, and held fast to her convictions at all times, "Come with me."

She led Edelgard to another room. The walls here were lined with cabinets, each one filled with herbs and medicines, cures for almost any condition. The walls were thick so if there was any noise outside, one could search for the medicines they needed without distractions. 

Edelgard was the first to speak, "I understand why you think I shouldn't do this, but I promise it will benefit the Empire."

"But at what cost?" Manuela asked, "I trust you to make good decisions, but there's so much that could go wrong with this that nobody could predict. If Duke Aegir wants the child back-"

"He won't," Edelgard confirmed, "And even if he did, that is a threat we can deal with."

"There will also be tolls on your well-being," Manuela added, "I'm sure you know that your body isn't suited for raising a child. We have no idea how the already difficult process of nursing a child will affect you. Besides, I know even you feel emotions. In the likely event that this baby passes, I don't want you suffering from her loss while you need to lead an Empire."

There was a flash of something Manuela had never seen in her eyes before, "Then we will just have to make sure she stays alive. I know you think I'm asking the impossible, but trust me, if we can keep her alive it will benefit the Empire greatly."

"Alright. If you think you can manage this," Manuela said.

"Thank you," Edelgard said, her shoulders relaxing as her former teacher reached for one of the higher shelves. Manuela pulled down a bundle of leaves, tied together with twine that looked as if it had been used for many years, stained green from the herbs it held.

"Brew one of these into your tea every day," the older woman instructed, "And make sure nobody else gets into it. You should be in a week's time."

Edelgard nodded, "I cannot express how thankful I am for this. Please, tell me when Ferdinand wakes up."

"Of course."

The young Emperor left the room without saying another word. She was a smart girl, always cool and calculated. But she often got ahead of herself, making risky choices and hoping they would succeed. It was only a matter of time before it caught up to her. Manuela just hoped she was ready to face the consequences when it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So I just want to let y'all know that I probably won't be updating as frequently because I made a big mistake:  
> I got Undertale.  
> So yeah, we'll just see how this goes. I hope I can still keep up with this!


	10. In which a journey awakens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand finally wakes up

Ferdinand had been fading in and out of consciousness for far too long. Just when he thought he was going to break the surface, he was once again pushed under by another storm-struck wave. When he finally woke, his body was weak and stiff. He barely had the strength to think, much less move. His brain was a delirious puddle of exhaustion and confusion.

And then there was pain.

So much pain, burning like fire between his legs, and his stomach and back so sore he could barely breathe. His body felt as though it may as well have been on fire, burning with uncomfortable heat. He let out an indistinct noise that might have been a pained moan, but it was impossible to tell. Hell, he didn't even know.

His brain refused to work, refused to recall what had caused him so much agony, what had made him so tired and sick. He tried to move his arm, but it was too stiff and weak for even the simplest of movements. His eyelids felt as if they were made of lead as he tried to open them, and when he finally managed to, everything was a messy blur. Thank the Goddess there were no bright lights, but he couldn't see anything, couldn't make out a single detail that would reveal where he was.

It may have been a few minutes, maybe a few hours before the scattered pieces of his mind finally began to put themselves back together. The last thing he could remember was the dungeon. He was in pain, but he couldn't remember why. Oh yeah… he'd just gone through childbirth. That would make sense as to why he was hurting.

Childbirth.

Ferdinand's heart slammed in his chest. Where was his baby? How long had he been asleep, unable to protect her? What had they done to her?

He tried to sit up, his arms shaking and eventually giving out under him. He tried again, but his arms were too weak to hold his own weight. He gritted his teeth, struggling as much as he could against the prison that was his weakened and sick body. He tried to scream, tried to call out, but the only noise that came was a pathetic, raspy groan. Tears of frustration rolled down his cheeks as he struggled and tried and tried and  _ tried _ to get up and move. He had to find his baby. He had to protect her. The empire knew who she was, surely they would hurt her, maybe even-

No. He would not let that happen. He could not let that happen. He would save her, and keep her safe. Words fought their way off his tongue, coming out as senseless noises muddled by the hoarseness of his voice. He was pathetic, helpless against the forces of sheer exhaustion and human weakness.

He heard a door creak open, somewhere beyond his head. He turned to look to the side, hoping whoever it was would come into his limited line of sight. A woman in a nurse's attire appeared in front of him, the imperial crest emblazoned on her otherwise pristine white clothes.

"Ferdinand. You've been asleep for three days. It would be in your best interest to not move and let me take care of you."

Ferdinand did not care about his own well-being right now. He had to know where his baby girl was. He mustered all the power he could and croaked out, "What have you done to her?"

The words seared his dry throat as if he had swallowed a bundle of knives. He winced at the feeling but refused to let it make him look weak. Or, weaker than he already was.

The nurse didn't answer his question. Instead, she handed him a glass of water. Although he wanted nothing from the Enbarr infirmary, he reached out for it as best he could. His arms shook as he did, fingers stiff as he curled them around the glass. He could only hold it for a few seconds before it slipped from his weak grasp, shattering on the floor and spilling its contents. The nurse frowned at him before producing a clipboard and scratching something down on it. 

"Where is she?" Ferdinand tried again.

"Your baby is safe," the nurse responded simply, "we will bring her to you when we can. But before we can do that, we need to make sure you get better.”

_ She is more important than I am _ . Ferdinand knew his words would be useless. The empire did not care for his child. He was much more important, much more useful to them. 

The nurse handed him another glass of water, spotting it as he brought it to his mouth. His arms shook as he held it in both hands, tilting it up slowly. But, apparently not slowly enough, as he drenched his face and hair with the cool water. But what little did go in his mouth, oh, it was the most blissful feeling in the world. A rainstorm in a desert, wetting his parched throat. Just the little he managed to swallow down rejuvenated him, awakening his body to the world fully.

Finally, his eyes began to adjust to the room. The warm candlelight, stone walls filled with cement and filed down to be nearly flat. Although there were many places similar, there were none exactly like the Enbarr hospital.

However, he didn't have much time to look around before a rough cough was pulled from his chest. His sides heaved painfully with each cough, rattling through the whole of his body. He wheezed, fighting for a breath through the wild fit. Exhaustion reclaimed his body as it calmed, sinking back into the stiff bed. He felt a hand on his shoulder but was too tired to shake it off. 

The nurse hurriedly grabbed another cup of water, tilting Ferdinand's head up and practically forcing him to drink it. Swallowing hurt as he tried to force it down, as if he was rubbing sandpaper against the inside of his throat. When he'd finally managed to get all of it down, she put a hand against his forehead, tensing as she did so. She scratched down some more notes on her paper before putting a damp rag across his blazing skin.

Ferdinand felt as if he were being dragged into the pits of hell. His own body weight pinned him to the bed, and being frozen solid would have been more comfortable than this terrible sensation of burning from the inside out. His breaths were labored as an unknown force pushed down on his searing lungs. All other thoughts had been hazed out, only able to focus on the agony scorching throughout his entire body. Goddess above, he wanted nothing more than this pain to cease. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself back to sleep so he wouldn't have to focus on this anymore. But despite how tired he was, his body refused to rest, instead forcing him to live through this white-hot pain.

He shivered as he felt cold hands on his arms and the prick of a needle piercing his abnormally pale skin. He could barely make out what the nurse was saying as she spoke, "You'll be okay. You're dehydrated and sick, but we'll make sure you're alright. Your baby will be alright too."

His baby… She must be sick too. He could feel tears welling in his eyes. He needed to be with her, but all the same, she would be in danger if she were near him. His baby girl. She was alone with them, probably being brainwashed already. He needed to claim her, tell them she was his…

"Alina."

"Excuse me?"

"Alina," he croaked out, "That is her name."

The nurse nodded, "It's a pretty name. Now try and get some rest. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can see her."

Ferdinand was too weak to argue. He'd only ever been with his daughter for a mere minute, but he would stop the world from spinning if that's what it took to keep her safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, a working title for this project was "His Noble Light," since that's what the name "Alina" means. I chose it because noble is Ferdinand's whole thing, and the name "Hubert" means bright heart.


	11. In which she is a guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard takes on the task of caring for Alina. Klara and Franklin plan their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So half of this chapter was actually beta read by a friend. It's also a bit short and monologue-heavy. Duke Aegir being a d*ck warning.

Edelgard bit her lip as the small child took the breast she had offered to it. She was lucky that Alina was eating well after she'd refused the goat's milk for so long. Although she was still small and frail, the tiny girl had begun to put on weight. Her condition had finally stopped declining, but she was not yet improving like they wanted her to. It was still up in the air as to whether or not she would survive. It had been difficult hiding this plot from Hubert's ever-watchful eye, but she'd managed to conceal the physical symptoms as her milk came in well enough.

She was relieved when Ferdinand had finally woken up, though he was still too unwell to take care of his child, between a terrible sickness that had spread throughout his body and being so malnourished. She would still have to nurse this child for a while yet. 

Edelgard was unsure of her emotions, but she was confident in this decision. Alina had the potential to be a pivotal part of the Empire's future. She was the daughter of the heir to house Aegir, after all. They could use her to get information out of her father, or teach her the ways of the Empire and turn her against her kin, or regain a grasp on house Aegir, which had sided against the Empire in this war.

No, that wasn't right. She shuddered at the thought of using a child. But then again, what was right anymore? She didn't know. Nobody knew. That was the whole problem with this damned war. Nobody knew who was right and who was wrong. Yes, the nobility system was outdated and broken, but she wondered constantly, was she right if the majority opposed her opinions? Edelgard shook her head. She couldn't think about that now. She was doing what she knew to be best for the Empire, for the whole of Fódlan in the future. Sometimes, peace came at the cost of lives. But that was how the world worked. It was painful now, but she was doing what was best for generations to come.

She was doing what was best for this child, still too small and fragile to defend or think for herself. Edelgard was making the world better for her, and so many other children that would come after her.

Although she could not save everybody's lives right this instant, it was comforting to know that she was saving this one. Edelgard von Hresvelg was not weak or heartless. She had the power, could take care of a child. To care for fallen comrades.

Edelgard sighed, running her fingers through Alina's fiery locks. She was so small, yet she already resembled her father so much. She resembled a man she cared for.

Yes, Ferdinand was her enemy. He had chosen to side with the Kingdom, turning his back on the Empire and everything he had grown up with. But he had once been a close friend, a comrade in arms. However much she despised him for his competitive nature and constant optimism, she could never quash that platonic affection she had held for him for the longest time. He was a friend, and she would never betray him by killing his daughter while he was sick and unable to protect her.

Though, maybe Manuela was right about her growing attached to this child. After only a few weeks of taking care of this child, she was already depending on Alina to help end the war and had become unsure of what she would do without her.

Not only that, but she had begun to care for this child.

However much it should not be true, it was a simple fact. Edelgard would be crushed if Alina somehow died.

But she wouldn't think about that. She would not let that happen. She had taken this child to raise herself so she could live and thrive, for the sake of the Empire, for Ferdinand, for herself.

Alina soon detached herself from the Emperor's breast with a small sigh, comfortable and full in the arms of the Empire.

She would be the child of the Empire.

********

It had been a moon since the twins had snuck into their father's office. A moon of planning and waiting for an opportunity for them to make their escape to arise. Despite how much she loved sneaking around in the cover of night, Klara had never tried escaping the estate.

After yet another unsuccessful day of waiting for an opening that never came, Klara and Franklin were called for supper. When they came down, Duke Aegir may as well have been smoking with rage.

Klara knew better than to speak now. When he was in this mood, asking questions often meant getting lashings. However, it was clear that this concept had not yet come to Franklin when he noticed their father's mood.

"What's happened, Father?" He asked politely.

That made him snap. The Duke threw the first thing he could grab - a fork, in this instance - at his son's head. Franklin dodged with an alarmed squeak, "I'll tell you what! Your slut brother gets pregnant, then gets captured by the Empire, and then has a daughter! He's a disgrace to the family! The only reason I let him identify as a male is so I wouldn't have to deal with the shame of having my first child being a daughter, and now he's soiled our reputation even further!"

Klara ducked as a knife was flung in her direction, sticking into the wall behind her with a loud  _ thunk _ . It appeared this would be another night without dinner.

"Father, please," Franklin said, "It can't be that bad. At least Ferdinand is still alive."

"That maggot being dead would be the best thing that could happen!" The older man snarled, flipping his plate in his fit of rage.

Franklin had tried many times in the past to appease their father's anger, but not once had it worked. If anything, it made him even more violent. Klara grabbed the collar of her brother's shirt, dragging him away as swiftly as she could, which caused Franklin to shout in protest. Once he realized his struggling was useless, he turned to run with his sister up the stairs, locking the door behind them as they fled into their dark bedroom.

"Sorry," Franklin murmured, "I shouldn't have said anything."

Despite what had just happened, Klara didn't seem at all irritated with her twin, "No, it's good that you asked. We got some information that we needed from Father."

"We did?"

A small flame burst from his sister's fingertip, which she pressed to the wick of a candle until it was alight with the gentle blaze. She picked up the candle, setting it between them as she sat across from her brother, "Yeah. He was pissed because Ferdie had a daughter."

"That means..."

"He had his baby already."

"And she's alive."

Klara nodded, "A blessing and a curse, really."

"I can't believe it," Franklin whispered, "We have a niece. I'm an uncle."

"I know, I know. I wish we could know for certain that she's safe."

Franklin's heart dropped. Right. Their brother and their newborn niece were still within the Empire's grasp. If they'd somehow managed to escape and get to safety, there was no way that Duke Aegir could know.

"Surely they wouldn't hurt an infant, would they?"

Klara snorted, "I wouldn't put it above them."

"So she's in more danger than she was before."

Klara nodded, "We're running out of time. We have to go get him."

Franklin's eyes went wide, "What do we do?"

"We've gotta get out of here. Tonight."

"And how do we get to Enbarr?"

"I don't know yet," Klara conceded, voice low, "But we'll figure something out. We have to. Ferdie needs us."

She reached for her locket, holding it out to her twin brother. In the dark of their room, Franklin fumbled for his, taking both of them in his hand, holding them together over the warm glow of the candle.

"Sometimes we only have each other in this world. We're the Aegir siblings. We don't give anyone up to the vultures."

Franklin nodded. However different he and his sister were, they could always agree on one thing: The Aegir siblings never gave up on each other. There were very few things you could depend on in a world in the midst of war, but the bond between siblings was one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one was a bit short, but I promise the next chapter will be longer! I'm having a lot of fun with this project, and I hope y'all are enjoying it too!  
> Feel free to give constructive criticism in the comments. I'm still learning myself!


	12. In which there is nobody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand is alone for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tend to reflect my life into my writing, so in a way this chapter is self-indulgent. I wanted to give all of you who are social distancing a little present, so I have a plan to post more frequently in celebration of Hubert and Ferdinand's birthdays(April 17 and April 30). Also grammarly wasn't working, so I'm sorry if there are some spelling/grammar errors!

Ferdinand sat on the lap of one of the maidservants or the Aegir mansion, clutching a stuffed eagle toy that he’d gotten for his first birthday, five and a half years ago. It was old and gross now after being around for so long, but still he refused to let his father throw it away. Mommy would usually come and wash it for him, but Mommy had been very tired lately. And swollen. Very, very swollen. Of course, Ferdinand did not say anything to her, because telling someone they were fat was very rude.

But right now, Ferdinand would be as rude as he had to be if it meant Mommy would be okay. He curled against the nursemaid, whimpering as a scream sounded from across the hallway. Mommy had been screaming for hours. She said it hurt to have babies, but Ferdinand never imagined that it was painful enough to make her scream. Mommy was brave and strong and would do anything if it meant Ferdinand and Daddy and the baby she was carrying stayed safe(she had said so herself). But now Mommy was the one who needed to be protected.

There was a gentle whisper, a quiet shushing as the nursemaid gently rocked Ferdinand, “It’ll be alright. Your Mommy is a strong woman. She’ll get through this just fine. Remember when she climbed up that tree to get you?”

Ferdinand remembered. He had climbed too high in a tree and gotten stuck. Nobody had the courage to climb up after him except his Mommy, who climbed all the way up and then all the way back down with Ferdinand on her back. She had said that the love between a mother and her child was strong enough that a mother could do anything if her child was in danger. 

There was another scream. Ferdinand screwed his eyes shut, trying not to cry. He had to be brave for Mommy like Mommy was for him. He hugged his little eagle tighter, pressing his head into the nursemaid’s chest. Before he could get comfortable again, the door to his room was flung open. A panicked, blood-soaked midwife was standing in the doorway, wild-eyed and panting.

“Analise, we need you in there,” the midwife said, almost too quickly to be understood, “It’s twins.”

“Goddess,” the nursemaid muttered to herself, picking Ferdinand up and putting him on the bed, “Ferdinand, it turns out Mommy is having two babies instead of one, which is wonderful, but also very scary. She needs me to be with her. Can you promise me that you can be strong by yourself while I go help Mommy?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to cling to the nursemaid and beg her to stay, but instead he quietly nodded. Maybe Analise could help Mommy and Ferdinand’s new siblings.

And so Ferdinand sat in his dark room in silence with no company except for his little stuffed eagle for what may have been hours. He was alone and scared and what if Mommy wasn’t okay? Maybe he could help Mommy? Seeing her would certainly be better than being alone in this cold dark room, right?

Ferdinand hopped off his bed, shuffling to the door. He opened it as slow as he could in an attempt to prevent it from creaking too loudly(it creaked a lot). Eagle plushie still tucked under his arm, Ferdinand made the treacherous journey across the hall to Mommy and Daddy’s room. He could hear quite a commotion from inside, but couldn’t make out any words. He reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it and peering into the room. His bright eyes went wide. Nursemaids and midwives were scrambling all over the place, most of them covered in blood. They were all yelling and shouting at each other, things like, “Check the babies!” and “She’s not breathing!” And in the middle of it all, Mommy was lying in the bed, perfectly calm and still. She looked… paler than the last time he had seen her. Maybe she was just scared. That would make sense, she was never fond of blood. Ferdinand took another cautious step inside. Nobody seemed to notice him approaching. Frustrated, he grabbed the apron of one of the midwives. The entire room fell into a hushed silence when they noticed the little boy.

“Excuse me,” Ferdinand said as politely as she could, “Can I talk to Mommy?"

There was silence for a few more seconds before the crowd of nurses parted. Analise walked up to Ferdinand, her clothes stained red. She reached down, picking up the little boy. Ferdinand noticed there were tears in her eyes, "I'm sorry, Ferdinand. Mommy is asleep right now. You can't talk to her."

"Oh," Ferdinand responded, disheartened, "Can I talk to her when she wakes up?"

Analise sniffed, trying not to cry in the presence of a child, but it was no use, "Mommy won't be waking up for a while. Try and get some rest, and then we can talk about Mommy."

Without another word, Analise carried Ferdinand back to his chambers, tucking him into bed and pressing a gentle kiss against the little boy's forehead. Ferdinand tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he would open them again. No matter how hard he tried, he just wasn't sleepy. Mommy's screams echoed in his head, the image of her sitting there silently appeared whenever he closed his eyes. Something felt… off. Was Analise hiding something from him? Analise had never lied before, but maybe she was this time.

Daddy normally gave Ferdinand the answers he wanted. Maybe he knew what was going on with Mommy.

Ferdinand slipped out of bed as quietly as he could. He eased the door open, tiptoeing down the stairs and to Daddy's study. Ferdinand stood in front of the door. Daddy didn't like to be disturbed while he was working, but Ferdinand needed answers. He reached for the knob, pushing the door open.

"Daddy?"

He didn't even turn around, "I'm busy. What do you want."

"Analise said Mommy is very tired, but I think she was lying. Do you know what happened to Mommy?"

Daddy went still, "Your mother isn't going to wake up."

Ferdinand frowned, "What do you mean?"

Daddy whirled around, faster than Ferdinand had ever seen him move before. He slapped Ferdinand hard across his cheek before picking him up by the collar of his shirt, "Your mother is dead! She died to give life to those little rats! I don't need you around to remind me!"

He flung Ferdinand back, his head hitting the wall with a loud thud. He sat dazed for a few seconds before bursting into tears as his head throbbed. Daddy slapped him again, yelling, "Oh, shut up and get over it! I didn't raise you to be a whiny, pathetic rat!"

The door to the study burst open, Analise looking around frantically as Ferdinand cried even harder, "What the hell is going on in here?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned about," Daddy hissed, "I was just teaching this brat a lesson."

"Heinrich, you can't do that! He's six!" Analise snapped. She picked Ferdinand up, pulling him close to her chest, "Do what you want to me, but don't you dare lay a hand on him!"

"He's my son! I will do with him what I like!"

"You cannot hurt your child, or have you no human decency?" Analise snarled, "Come on Ferdinand, we're going to bed."

"I'll have your head, Analise!" Daddy yelled.

She ignored him, taking Ferdinand up past her own room and to the maid's quarters. She put the little boy down on her bed before explaining what had happened to the other nursemaids.

"I'm so sorry, Ferdinand. Daddy was very angry. You shouldn't have disturbed him, but he has no right to hit you."

"Is Mommy really dead?" he sniffed.

"Yes. Mommy died, but your brother and sister are alright."

Ferdinand was quiet again for a long while, his eyes closing as Analise stroked his hair, "Does Daddy still love me?"

Analise bit her lip, "I don't know. But I still love you."

Heinrich's words echoed back to her, "Ferdinand, listen to me. If anything happens to me, your siblings will be there for you, okay?" She reached into her pocket, searching for the last thing Ferdinand's mother had given her. She pulled it out, holding it up for the little boy to see, "Your Mommy wanted you to have this. Her soul is in it, and she will always be with you as long as you wear it.

Ferdinand nodded, grasping at the locket. Analise hooked the chain behind his neck. She smiled, brushing the little boy's bright orange hair out of her face, "You'll be okay. There will always be someone there to love you, I promise."

********

Ferdinand woke with his face wet with tears. He rubbed his eyes, trying to scrub away the horrible dream he'd just had. That was thirteen years ago now. Thirteen years since the last time he’d seen his Mother. Ferdinand missed her dearly, even though his memories of her were hardly intact anymore. The only thing he had left of her was his locket.

Yes… he'd had a loving Mother once, even if his Father never cared for him. She would do anything for him. The power of a parent's love could make someone do anything, she had said.

And although he had believed it, Ferdinand did not feel that he had the energy to do anything. He felt hopeless, alone without his daugher or his siblings.

He sighed, resigning himself to sitting quietly in bed. He had gotten much better over the past few weeks. His infection had fully cleared, but his body had not regained its former strength. He was weak. The only thing that gave him hope was the droplets of milk that he could occasionally squeeze from his breasts, proof that he was a father and that he was capable of doing something for his baby girl.

Just as he was cupping one of his swollen breasts, a nurse walked into the room. Ferdinand patiently went along with their seemingly endless tests, prodding in his throat, taking his temperature, examining his stomach. When she was finally done with the poking and prodding, she urged him to his feet. His legs shook, weak from lying still for so long, but still the nurse urged him to the door. When she opened the door for him, there were guards in their classic red armor, rope slung over one of their shoulders. Before he could respond, one of them roughly forced his wrists behind his back, binding them together with the thick, coarse rope.

“What is going on?” he demanded as one of the guards reached to tie a blindfold over his eyes.

"Not important," the first guard said gruffly, "You'll know when you're there."

"Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you," the second guard comforted, "Lady Edelgard wouldn't be happy if she knew you'd been injured."

Edelgard. So she was involved in this too now. It had been a long time since he had last seen the Emperor. The last time was when… he shuddered. It had been during the battle of Garreg Mach. He had watched the monastery collapse behind him as blood soaked through his coat, tending to his favorite mare in her last moments. He remembered feeling so sick from all the violence and watching so many people he knew die on both sides. Now it was clear that he was sick from more than just the battle.

He opened his mouth to protest, but a rope was harshly shoved between his jaws, "We don't need your tongue-wagging either."

"Hey! That's not very nice!" The second guard piped up, "It wouldn't do if he got a rope burn in his mouth."

"Fine," the first guard huffed, "But if he runs that noble mouth too much, I'll cut out his tongue."

Ferdinand swallowed back the urge to state that he was no longer a noble, but he'd much rather keep his tongue than correct one trivial inaccuracy.

The first guard(he assumed) shoved him forwards by his bound wrists, keeping them trapped behind his back as they walked. However annoying, he appreciated the other guard filling the silence with her cheerful chirping.

"Oh! Melanie! Did you hear that they hired two new maids? I heard they're the youngest we've ever had. Sweet little things, only, what? Thirteen, I think? Did you hear?"

"No, I didn't Carole. I really don't care about the going-ons of the maids like you do," Melanie growled.

Hiring thirteen-year-old maids? That seemed… odd, and frankly concerning. Ferdinand couldn't help but wonder about their parents. Surely they would be worried about their missing children.

It wasn't long before Carole's incessant blabbering became just annoying. Even so, Melanie never tried to stop her. Ferdinand was sure this was meant to be some kind of torture, pointing out his own flaw. He wanted to yell at her that he got the message, but he knew then he'd probably never be able to talk again.

What felt like hours of listening to Carole go on and on about all the cute butlers and maids later, he heard a lock click open and the creak of a door. He was shoved roughly inside, hearing the door slam shut behind him. His wrists were unbound, and the blindfold was cut loose. He blinked, looking around the room. This certainly wasn't a dungeon.

Pastel floral wallpapers covered all of the walls, peeling and cracked in some of the corners. A large canopy bed sat in the middle of the room, red satin sheets embroidered with roses. What must have been a dozen pillows sat at the head of the bed, sporting silky pillowcases that varied from a vibrant red to the deepest, darkest black. A large window stood at the far end of the room, curtains pulled back to allow sunlight to dance over the dust-coated floor. It had been too long since Ferdinand had last seen natural sunlight, he practically ran across the room, stumbling as he left footprints against the floor. He pressed himself against the window, feeling the frigid panels chilled from the air outside as well as the warm sun on his skin. It was far too little time before Melanie barked at him, yanking him away from the window.

"Hey! Don't go getting any ideas!" She snarled, yanking his wrists behind his back again.

"What is this place?" Ferdinand asked, mesmerized.

"Still not important," Melanie growled at the same time Carole said, "The old visitor's quarters."

"The old visitor's quarters?"

"Yeah! Most of the old palace burned down in a fire about a century ago, but this part survived. They don't use this part of the palace much anymore, so it's called the Old Palace."

"Carole!" Melanie hissed, "He doesn't need to know that!"

"What?" Carole asked, "It wouldn't do him any harm to know."

"Come on. Let's leave before you reveal any more information."

The two guards left, locking the door behind themselves. Ferdinand stood silently until the clanking of their armor and Carole's cheery chatter vanished down the hall. He took a cautious step forwards, cringing as the floorboards creaked under his bare feet. If he ever did have a plan to escape, it would be difficult with all the noise that would be made by him simply walking around this… his quarters. He imagined there would be guards stationed outside his room as well, making sure nobody came in or out unauthorized. 

He sighed, climbing up onto the bed. His legs ached from the walk, his body unaccustomed to standing after lying down for so long. It felt incredible to relieve his body from the pressure of walking as he sprawled on his back, orange locks splaying across the sheets like the sun's rays. He carded his fingers through his hair, scraggly and unwashed. He hadn't cut it since this damned war started, and after nine and a half months it reached down to brush his shoulders. He didn't recall having a proper bath since he got to Enbarr, and it was almost painful to touch his hair, and although he had gone noseblind to it, he was sure he smelled awful as well.

Wait a moment.

These were formerly guest quarters, weren't they? Surely there was a bath somewhere. Ferdinand slid off the bed, walking on shaky legs to the second door in the room. He turned the knob, slowly easing it open. He breathed a sigh of relief as he peered into a small bathroom. His bare feet burned against the frigid tile, but it did not deter him as he made his way to the bath on the far side of the tiny room. He sat on the edge of it, reaching to turn on the water. He waited for the tub to fill, tugging off his rough shirt and pants and throwing them aside. When it was finally full, he shrank back at the discovery that the water was freezing cold. Well, what did he expect? He sighed, shivering as he sunk into the cold depths. He leaned back against the rim of the bath, letting the chill creep through his skin until it hit his bones. It wasn't long before he could hardly feel his fingers and toes, the numbness slowly setting in. 

Ferdinand cupped his hands, splashing water over his face and hair, crossing his legs as he sat up. However cold, finally being able to wash away the prison dirt and old blood that clung to the insides of his legs was refreshing. He sighed, reaching down to scrub away the dried blood that remained from his profuse bleeding for the past month and a half. He'd only gotten a word for what his body was going through a few weeks ago. Postpartum plagued his body, even without his baby with him. The soreness in his breasts, the bleeding, the feeling of a missing piece, all of it was from this cursed ailment. He could only hope that it would ease when he finally got to be with his daughter.

Oh, Alina. She must be so uncomfortable as well, without a parent to watch over and take care of her. Even as an infant, she must be able to sense that something was wrong.

Ferdinand's heart thudded in his chest. What if she never bonded to him? What if she turned him away? The twins had never cared for their mother, having never spent any time with her. What if that happened to Alina?

Or what if she was already dead? He'd held onto the hope that she was still alive, but he'd heard nothing of her condition since his first days awake. It was like she had disappeared from his life. Maybe she had. But if she was dead, then he had nothing left to live for...

Ferdinand pulled his knees to his chest. No, he couldn't think like that. Even if she was gone, there were still people who valued and needed him, like the twins and the Blue Lions. Even so, everything felt worthless when he considered that his baby girl may no longer be alive. He reached for the silver locket that hung around his neck, a promise that he would never be alone. He sighed, resting his head against his knees. It was just a piece of metal. It couldn't promise anything. It couldn't keep him or his family safe.

A shiver ran down his spine, but he wasn't entirely sure whether it was from the water or the thoughts of his daughter. He scrubbed the dirt as best he could from the rest of his body before getting out of the freezing water and draining the bath. He took the ragged towel that had been provided. It scratched along his skin as he dried himself off. He looked in the mirror over the sink as he dried his face, barely able to recognize himself. His skin was pale and eyes dull with dark bags underneath them. He looked down at his body, more of a skeleton than a person from starvation and sickness and atrophy, most of his ribs visible through his thin waist, his hips protruding below them. The only part of him that was at all filled out was his chest, swollen with milk for a child that may not even be alive.

He turned away before the thought could continue, walking from the bathroom as fast as he could, closing the door behind himself. He did not need to see himself anymore in this sorry state.

When Ferdinand approached the bed, he realized there was a new change of clothes on it: A simple white button-down, black pants, smallclothes, and what looked like an undershirt of sorts. When he pulled it on, he realized there was padding around his breasts, presumably to absorb leaking milk. Not that he needed his chest to look any larger than it already was, but nonetheless he was thankful as he pulled the clothes on. They weren't scratchy or even particularly uncomfortable aside from being slightly large on his shrunken frame. He looked at himself in the small vanity mirror. He was still pale and colors dulled, but at least one could no longer see his hollowed, deprived body and stretched stomach.

Come to think of it, it was not just his own palette that had become dull; everything had lost saturation. Everything was dull, as if the world's colors were fading away, slowly being drowned out by a suffocating coat of gray. 

He pulled his arms around himself, shivering. Maybe it was just that the sun-bright glass that he had peered through all his life had been ripped away. Maybe he was finally seeing the world for what it was, now that he was truly alone for the first time. He'd been within the comforts of his family and friends all his life, but now they were nowhere to be found.

For the first time, he was truly alone. He was on his own. His fingers went back to his locket. He wanted to yank it off, throw it out the window.

There was no one here to love him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who are social distancing, I wish you all the best. I know it can be lonely being cooped up at home and unable to see others, but know that you are not alone. As a fandom, we are a community. We're here. Stay strong, and stay safe.


	13. In which he discovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina and Ferdinand are finally well. Hubert takes Alina to get her checked for a crest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 30th Anniversary of Fire Emblem(April 20th)!  
> Also I finally reached 20,000 words published! Yay me!

Hubert looked into the cradle at the tiny girl inside. It had been a month since she was born, tiny and helpless and on the brink of death. She would've died, had it not been for a mysterious woman who had stepped in and nursed her back to health. Hubert didn't know the identity of this woman, and personally, he was not pleased with her presence. However, he had to feign happiness when Edelgard was thrilled that Alina would live. 

Today was the day. After so long, Alina was finally healthy enough to get tested for a crest. She'd made a shocking recovery in such a short amount of time, Hubert wouldn't be surprised if she had a healing crest of sorts. But it couldn't be that Claude was the father. She looked nothing like him, between her fiery hair and pale skin. It was possible that… no, he really didn't want to think about Linhardt sleeping with anyone, much less Ferdinand.

It was odd to think he'd spent more time with this child than Ferdinand had, checking on her health and how she was progressing, though that may also be because the other man had only just recovered. Although short, Hubert had been told the younger man's labor had been difficult. The nurses had mentioned too many words and conditions that Hubert didn't want to ask what they meant. The only things he did understand was blood loss and infection, which had plagued the younger man for some time. Finally, he was on the mend and well enough to meet his daughter. 

But that would have to come later. For now, there were more important things to worry about than Ferdinand. Edelgard was busy with other Imperial duties, so he'd been assigned to oversee Alina's cresting. Despite how much he wanted it to be boring and uneventful, he suspected that it would be anything but. 

“Are you ready?” the nurse beside him asked.

“Yes,” he replied, swallowing down his reluctance. 

The nurse nodded, picking up the infant girl. She was awake but quiet, her round blue eyes curiously watching the world. Hubert turned away with a grunt. He wouldn't let that intoxicating charm get to him. After all, who knew what influence she might have, as the bastard child of the Prime Minister. He knew full well that, given the opportunity, her father would try to reclaim his heart which he had hidden so skillfully. 

Or so he thought.

Hubert followed the nurse silently down the hall, trying to calm himself below his stony exterior. There was a chance that she would have a Crest of Cichol, or none at all. Edelgard was attempting to take down the nobility system anyway, so it wouldn't matter if she was noble or not for long.

But what if…

He shook his head. No, that was impossible. He didn't need to worry himself with that. Hubert was practically infertile. The chances that he could bear a child was already slim, and it had only been three times. 

He followed the nurse through the door into the crest lab. It was one of the most famous and powerful in all of Fódlan. While others could barely detect the Crest of Flames in the Professor, this one could track crest lineage back up to four generations on both sides from a single drop of blood. 

The nurse reached for a tiny syringe- the smallest Hubert had ever seen, "May we commence the cresting?"

"Go ahead."

Hubert stood perfectly still as the nurse poked the syringe into Alina's exposed arm. She burst out crying, wailing as the nurse took only a milliliter of blood from her tiny body. The nurse dripped only half of it onto a small plate before setting the syringe down on a nearby table.

"It may be a few minutes while the results process," the nurse explained, allowing Alina to grab a hold of her finger as she tried to calm the screaming girl. Almost immediately she stopped crying, staring curiously at the nurse's finger.

Hubert looked down at her, cooing and content once again as she held the nurse's finger in her tiny hands, trying to bring it to her mouth. She was still so small, but she had lived. That was what Edelgard cared about. That the little girl was still alive.  _ Now we'll finally find out who you are _ , Hubert thought.

There was a soft whirr, and then buzzing and flickering, and then an explosion of light from a projector on the wall. The glittering purple particles began to arrange themselves agonizingly slowly. His breath caught in his throat when they finally found their place on the map.

Alina had a crest. But it was not a crest of Cichol, nor Cethleann or Riegan or Gautier. It was a Major Crest of Macuil. A crest that had not manifested in centuries.

The left side of the map was as expected, a parent with a Minor Crest of Cichol, a grandparent with nothing, and a great-grandparent with a Major Crest of Cichol. That was most assuredly Ferdinand's side. A normal crest-bearing family with normal crest-bearing patterns.

Hubert could feel the color draining from his face as he looked to the right side. The other parent was without a crest, a grandparent the same. The other grandparent that bore the lost crest of Macuil as well, and the rest of their family with assorted lost crests and symbols he'd never seen before. 

No. That couldn't be right.

The nurse looked at him, horrified and confused. There were very few people that could have a family tree that looked like this.

"It isn't right," he hissed, "Test it again."

"This is the most technologically advanced cresting machine in Adrestia. There's no way-"

"Test it again," he snarled. 

The nurse hurriedly picked up the syringe again, squeezing the rest of the blood onto the plate. A few minutes passed before the same pattern appeared, Alina with a Crest of Macuil, a parent with a Crest of Cichol, and the other with a nearly impossible ancestry.

Hubert stood silently for a long moment, trying desperately to make sense of what he was seeing. This was not possible, for a human's crest history to look like this. For him to have a child at all. But here he was, staring at a crest map that could belong to nobody but himself in this infant child. 

The nurse shuffled over, handing Alina to him. That nurse knew. She knew that this child had to be his. He slowly took her, looking down at the baby. His baby. 

"We cannot let anyone know of this," he muttered, just loud enough for the nurse to hear. She nodded, leaving Hubert to be alone in the room. 

She knew that this was a secret that should stay in the dark, but she did not understand the extent of it. If it was discovered that he had a baby, an even more dangerous secret could be forced into the light. On top of the war, they did not need another threat chasing down the Emperor and her most loyal assistant.

He should have killed her then and there. The words his father had said so many times echoed in his ears,  _ you were born to kill. It comes naturally to you _ . He should've gotten rid of any sort of evidence that could prove that she was his. But at that very moment, the tiny girl's eyes fluttered open. She looked at him, wide-eyed and curious. Hubert couldn't help but stare back, enraptured in those pale oceans of blue and flaming red hair that reminded him too much of the man used to care for. 

And then she did something impossible.

Hubert was scary. This was a well-known fact. Children would often run away screaming and crying, whether from his frightening expression or mother's tales to keep their children out of trouble. But Alina, tiny and premature and barely two months old, she giggled, her tiny hands reaching up to brush his face. 

Hubert could only stare as she grabbed at his hair, cooing and laughing all the while. It was as if she knew that this terrifying man before her was her flesh and blood. The father that had wanted her dead from the moment he knew she existed. It was… disgusting, he told himself. She was an abomination, just like he was. He forced himself to look away, to disregard her as much as possible as he walked down the empty halls of the Old Palace. He stopped in front of the quarters where Ferdinand was being held, taking a deep breath. He wasn't afraid. This wasn't nearly as terrifying as all the other work he does.

He shifted the infant in his arms, reaching slowly to open the door. It was going to be alright. There was nothing to be afraid of. 

The door clicked open. He took a deep breath, trying to recollect the scattered pieces of his composure as he stepped inside.

Ferdinand's glance swung to the door as he heard it click open. He'd managed to fight off the infection that had been plaguing his body, and the nurses had said he was finally well enough to meet his child. He'd been buzzing with excitement the entire day, color finally starting to return to him when he heard. After two whole months of waiting, he would finally get to meet his baby girl. He only barely remembered the tiny bundle of flushed skin he'd laid on his chest, but even still he felt connected to her. She was his daughter, after all.

However, his heart dropped dead in its tracks when he saw who had entered his room.

Ferdinand felt as though the air was being drained from his lungs. Hubert was standing there, staring at him. His expression couldn't quite mask the fear that shone in his eyes as he looked and Ferdinand, completely still. Goddess above, Hubert was afraid. That alone frightened Ferdinand more than he could express. He looked down slowly, his eyes landing on the thing the taller man held in his arms. Ferdinand nearly cried, but then immediately bit back a snarl of rage.

"Why do you have her?" He growled.

Hubert blinked before responding, his voice struggling to create its normal bite, "We just needed to run some tests. She wasn't harmed."

Ferdinand wasn't sure how much of that he could trust as he slipped his legs out from under the covers, planting them on the cold wooden floor. He supported himself on the bed as he slid his weight off of it, slowly trying to regain the balance he had lost from lying still for so long. His weakened legs shook as he shifted his weight completely off the bed, trying his best to stand tall and look confident.

The taller man gave a halfhearted chuckle, "You think you can intimidate me? A charming attempt, really."

"Give her to me."

Hubert would have teased him further had he the strength, but his tongue felt about as stiff as his limbs at this point, unable to form a sharp retort as the shorter man pulled the baby from his arms, backing up on unsteady legs like a cornered animal that didn't want to share its catch.

A shiver passed through Ferdinand as he felt his daughter's weight in his arms. She was finally with him, alive and healthy. She was warm, radiating her fresh baby scent. Alina looked at him, unsure at first before relaxing into her father's chest and closing her big eyes.

"Oh, Alina," he whispered to her, brushing a finger against her cheek, "You are just as beautiful as I always imagined."

Ferdinand choked back tears. He finally got to hold his precious daughter. They had both survived, and were healthy and were going to live and oh, he could not ask for anything else. He almost expected himself to pass out again, just like when she was born. He expected the world to prohibit him from being happy with his daughter.

But it was okay now.

He was going to be okay, and he could hold his child,  _ his baby girl _ , close forever.

Ferdinand forgot that the other father of his child was there, pulling Alina close and whispering nothing and everything to her at the same time. Hubert could only stare. He couldn't form words to describe what he was feeling. He shouldn't care at all, he should be able to look away and walk out without a second thought. But he felt as if his feet were frozen to the floor, unable to move, silently watching as the father of his daughter let tears of something between joy and sadness and pain spill onto her pale face. Hubert was never any good at understanding emotions, much less feeling sympathetic or giving condolences. But at this moment, he felt as though his world was falling apart. He was a father. This was the man he had once loved, caring for their child unconditionally. He had seen the look on Ferdinand's face when he approached the taller man, fiercely protective of a child he'd never met before.

It was then that Ferdinand's attention finally snapped back to Hubert. A bright flame burned through every vein in his body, urging him to do anything to protect his baby. The other man was staring blankly at him with an unreadable expression, yet still unlike Ferdinand had ever seen. His eyes were dull, glossed over as if he was trapped inside his own head.

"Leave," Ferdinand's harsh voice pulled Hubert back to reality, using his body to shield Alina from the older man, "And do not return. You have no business here."

Still, Hubert could not summon the words he used so perfectly to defend himself. He could only turn and leave, unable to come up with a sharp retort or summon the confidence to defy those words, which stood sure and sturdy in a misty world.

Hubert closed the door behind himself, continuing down the hall in silence. He had to admit one thing he didn't think was possible: He was terrified. This child was his flesh and blood. Now that it was possible, what else could be proven as well? What would become of the Empire if they found out? They needed to dispose of this child before she became a threat.

No, he couldn't think like that. The Empire needed her as well. She would be pivotal to getting secrets out of her father, to keys to ending this war early. They could use her, so Hubert could see the War through. Of course, there were people more important than himself, but he feared Edelgard would make a regrettable decision without his guidance. 

Hubert stopped, his eyes growing wide. Edelgard. This baby would prove his disloyalty to her. If she knew that he was the father of this child… No, Hubert didn't even want to think about it. Shame burned hot against his skin. He was a failure, a traitor to his own ideals. He was to be loyal to the Emperor and no one else. He was not to so much as care for anyone aside from her, much less have sex. But he had, he had expressed affection. He had intercourse.

And now he was a father to a baby girl that should not exist.

He rushed to his quarters, trying to somehow escape the panic that followed him like his own shadow.

Fear. It was not an emotion he experienced often, but it was undeniable now. It froze his fingertips, nipped at his nerves, made him jump at every noise or flap of curtains.

He almost ran. Although he did not care much for his own reputation, that of the Empire was far more important. If they learned that the Emperor's right hand had premarital sex and from his child discovered his bloodline, what would become of him and Lady Edelgard? 

Hubert locked the door behind him as he entered his quarters, heart pounding and head swimming. They could figure him out. They had a way now. They could use his child to force out the secret that he had been hiding since the day he was born, the secret that even Lady Edelgard was unaware of.

But within these rooms, he would be safe. There were more concealed weapons than he could count hidden in his bedroom alone, in the unlikely event that someone dared to attack the Minister of the Imperial Household. 

He sat down at the vanity across from his bed, resting his head in his hands. Alina was his daughter. Just as much a monster as he was. He needed to tell Lady Edelgard, needed to warn her of the dangers that came with keeping Hubert close to her, now that his secret was being threatened.

But he was safe here in his quarters. Nothing could harm him.

Except for himself.

Hubert looked up, giving himself a passing glance in the mirror before turning away.

His eyes went wide.

He swung back to the mirror, staring at himself in shock and horror. He reached up, running his hand over the offending streak. Still, it remained. It was not dust, or something coating his hair. It was a lack of something.

A complete lack of pigment in a single strand of his hair, turning it white as the moon.

No.

********

When she was sure she was a safe distance from the Imperial Palace, the young nurse raised her hand to the sky, summoning a beam of light to take her from the streets of Enbarr. Only seconds later, she found herself in the thick of the Grey Forest, kilometers from the Imperial Capital, but still well in Empire territory. She was still young after all and had not quite perfected her dark magic.

Only moments later, a figure came from the shade of the trees, melting out of them as if he was a shadow himself. Well, he might as well be. He wore a black cloak, fitted with a breastplate over top. Despite his shadowy appearance, his skin was an off-white, and pale pupilless eyes shone like moons in the little light they could catch through the thick canopy overhead. A mane of white hair trailed down his back, his long braid flecked with black, tied with a silky ribbon the color of the midnight sky.

"I've got good things to report, sire," she said as flat as possible. This was a very exciting discovery, but her boss didn't appreciate enthusiasm.

"Before you say anything, change out of that hideous form. I don't need you looking like an Imperial buzzard while we talk," the older man cut in.

"Right. Of course, sire."

With that, the young nurse took a deep breath. She could feel her body turn soft as it restructured itself, shifting a pulsing until she stood in her true form once again - Pale skin, bright silver-blue eyes, and hair the color of the soil beneath their feet struck through with white.

"So, what was it that you discovered, Koirre?"

"That child you told me to watch. The Prime Minister's kid? She just got a lot more interesting. Teyna, you're not going to believe this."

Teyna arched a brow, "How so?"

Koirre smiled deviously, "She's Hubert's daughter."

The older man frowned. He thought for a second before throwing Koirre against the nearest tree, "You know I don't like jokes."

The young woman coughed, scrambling to her feet, "I'm not joking. I saw the crest map for myself. We even double-checked it! She's definitely his kid."

"That's impossible. He can't bear a child."

"But it happened. And the kid's alive, too."

Teyna remained silent. It was against all known laws of biology regarding the subject. But if she truly was Hubert's daughter… well, there would be a lot they had to learn about both of them. It appears that all the experiments they did on the boy back then had missed something.

"So, what do we do next?" Koirre asked.

"We report to Myson," Teyna responded, voice low, "And then we see what he wants to do next."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually finished this chapter a while ago, but I needed to finish chapter 12 before I posted this one. Might post a chapter with baby Hubert soon, but we'll see what happens.


	14. In which she is alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alina experiences the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super short, I don't know why I wrote it but I really wanted to put it in here.

Alina had no words. She was barely two months old, after all. The world was new to her.

But though she could not speak nor walk nor see much further than her own arm's length, she was alive. Had she the ability to remember the memories when she was old enough to craft words, she may have been able to describe it.

She saw orange. A kind face, but not one she had seen before. Round, wet eyes the color of glowing embers and a gentle smile.

She smelled something she had been near before, but it had been a lifetime ago. Still, it was warm and calming. It made her feel… at home.

She tasted something warm and sweet. A silky liquid, filling her mouth. It was not like she had tasted before, somehow sweeter and fresher, but it was similar enough. She drank it willingly.

As she drank, something deflated near her head. It scared her. She let go of what she held in her mouth, crying. She felt something, a gentle vibrating or buzzing right next to her. She had felt this before. It made her feel calm again. But now she no longer felt like eating. She refused when she was offered her food source again. There was another heavy inflation and deflation before she was moved, pressed upright against warmth as her back was gently  _ thump-thump-thump _ ed upon until she burped. Calm once more, she was pressed against soft warmth, feeling the soft  _ ba-bump ba-bump _ of what she would later learn was a heartbeat. 

She was safe here. Safe and warm and loved as she was held close to the man that she would soon call her father. Of course, they were only emotions at the time. Only a tight embrace and gentle kisses and soft vibrations as she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just binged My Hero Academia all day instead of getting any of my schoolwork done(I'm totally a functional human). On another note, I'd love to hear your opinions on the work! As an amateur writer, it's really helpful to get some feedback!


	15. In which he has a secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard has a meeting with Hubert. She realizes he is hiding something, so she calls upon an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this chapter still being a bit short. I also apologize for it being a bit out of character on Hubert's part.

Hubert had been unable to rest his mind nor his muscles in the last few days. Everyone in the palace had noticed the typical dark circles under his eyes growing. The cunning shine in the minister's one visible eye had dulled, and his suspicious grin replaced with a tight frown. Even so, not a soul dared to ask what had him in such a mood.

Nobody except for the Emperor herself, of course.

The throne room was quiet as Edelgard waited for Hubert to come. It was an unspoken agreement that they meet every Friday to discuss the going-ons of the Empire and their individual positions. Hubert was rarely late, and if he was, never by more than fifteen minutes.

It had been nearly an hour and a half, and still he hadn’t come.

Edelgard rested her chin in her hand, sighing. Ever since the cresting last Tuesday, Hubert had been acting off. He looked nervous- skittish, almost- and however absurd it sounded, she got the feeling he was intentionally avoiding her. Everything about his demeanor was unusual.

She sighed, waiting for a few more minutes without movement before heading to the doors of the throne room. She stopped the first maid she could find.

“Excuse me, are you busy right now?” she asked the girl, grabbing her arm to stop her.

“Oh, not at all your Majesty,” she said with a quick bow, “Is there something you needed?”

“Have you seen Hubert today?”

The maid thought for a moment, “I believe so. Last I heard he was in his quarters. Would you like me to get him?”

“Yes. Bring him here, and don’t accept any excuses. Tell him the Emperor mandates his presence.”

“Yes, of course, your Majesty.”

Edelgard sighed as the maid set off down the hall. Although she knew it was unlikely, she hoped everything was alright with Hubert, or at least to know what was bothering him.

It wasn't long before the door creaked open again. Hubert shuffled in, muscles tensed like an animal of prey. Even from across the throne room, she could sense his lack of constitution.

"Hubert," she commanded, "Come here. I won't bite your head off."

He cleared his throat, "I am aware, your Majesty." He walked towards her, trying his best to mask his hesitancy.

"I'll save us both the idle chatter and cut to the chase," Edelgard said, "I've noticed you've been uneasy. Has something happened?"

Hubert swallowed, "You needn't concern yourself with it. I can manage it on my own."

"I'm asking as a friend, Hubert. I'm worried about you. If something's bothering you, you can tell me."

_ Can I trust you with the fact that I am the father of Ferdinand's child and that I am not who you think I am? _ He thought. He opened his mouth, choking on the truth, and spitting out part of it, "It's about Alina's cresting."

Edelgard's brows shot up, "What happened?"

"She… Alina has a crest that does not belong to any noble family that we are aware of," Hubert explained, a plan forming as he spoke, "We have no idea who her other parent is."

"I might know. What was her crest?"

"She has a Major Crest of Macuil."

"Macuil?" she echoed, "I don't recall there ever being a documented case of someone bearing a  _ Major _ Crest of Macuil. There was a house that did bear it, but reportedly very sparingly, and that house fell a number of years ago."

"I assume you are talking about House Nuvelle? Rumor has it they did have an heir who survived, though nobody knows where she went."

"That still doesn't explain her manifesting a major crest. The only way I can imagine this happening is if she had two parents who had the same crest, which we know didn't happen," Edelgard mused. Her eyes suddenly went wide, "Or… you don't think this is a result of  _ them _ meddling do you?"

Hubert's blood went cold, "No, I do not think so. It could be that two crests of the holy saints boosted each other."

"Hubert, think about it. We haven't seen him in a long time, and we have no idea who the other parent is. They could've found him and implanted a crest into her before she was born or he… goddess, I don't want to think about the second option."

He snorted, feeling sick to his stomach, "Hybridization is impossible. Even if it was, she would certainly have some condition or presenting trait."

"You do have a point," she said, leaning her head on her hand, "I think the most sound option would be to talk to someone who might have an idea about what's going on."

"I assume you mean my father?" Hubert spat, "He's quite familiar with the slitherers, after working with them for so long. Besides, I have to discuss… other matters with him as well."

"Yes. That would work," she said hesitantly, "You go talk to your father. Report back to me what he tells you."

"Of course, Lady Edelgard. I will leave for the Vestra estate as soon as possible."

"Be safe," she said, "Watch for slitherers."

"There is no need to worry about me, your Majesty. I will crush anyone in our way."

Edelgard’s demeanor fell as Hubert left the throne room. He’d done things behind her back before, but he’d never hidden something that had worried him from her before. Whatever was going on, she needed to know.

She fetched a letter, scribbling a quick note on the inside. She tucked it in an envelope before sealing it with the Imperial wax crest. She flipped it over, pen twirling in her fingers for a second before writing down a name in neat letters.

_ Hanneman von Essar _ . The closest person Hubert had to family, and the one who knew more about crests than anyone else.

Maybe he would have an answer.

In the meantime, she would have to try herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters should be longer, so I hope this may satisfy you for the time being.  
> An upcoming chapter will feature baby Hubert!  
> I just started listening to Cavetown, and I was listening to "Lemon Boy" while doing final edits.


	16. In which a priceless man makes a costly decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many years before Alina was born, Anton von Vestra made the difficult decision that cost him more than he could have imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Ferdinand's birthday(April 30)! He isn't in this chapter, but I am posting it in celebration nonetheless.  
> Note that Hubert is four years old when this chapter takes place.

_ Seventeen years before Alina was born... _

Anton von Vestra stared at his papers, illuminated by the candle dripping wax onto his desk and the orange-pink sunrise shining through the window behind him. He'd been working all night, reading and signing and writing documents to and from the slitherers and the other six houses. At this point he was just a peacemonger, holding together a shaky alliance. However much they bothered him, the threat of Ionius overstepping his bounds was far more important and imminent than their grouchy complaints. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a good night of sleep, between serving the emperor, betraying him, and raising a son. 

His son. Hubert had been born for the sake of this alliance and the reason his two other sons were dead, but he was so grateful for the boy. He was a quiet thing, but completely devoted to something once he started working on it. He'd been reading a book meant for children double his age for nearly a month now, but he refused to put it down until he finished.

He had just the type of personality Ionius would want to serve his heir. 

Anton shuddered. He knew it was fated to happen, but he hated the idea of his son getting anywhere near that corrupt man. Who knew what he would do to the young boy? Anton was old and wise enough to defend himself and decide what was an unwise decision, but Hubert was not. Even though he'd taught his son to follow his own moral code since he was very young, he feared he might end up blindly following the Emperor like a lapdog like his grandfathers before had.

He shuffled his papers, running one hand through his hair. All the stress was getting to him. The Emperor was on the brink of corruption, and the man who led the movement to take his power most likely wanted it for his own personal gain. There was no right decision, and stepping aside and refusing to involve himself was not an option. He just had to hope the choice he'd made would be the one that would protect the future of the Empire.

He paused as he heard the door creak open behind him. He heard quiet footsteps across the wooden floor and the nearly inaudible sound of breathing. Anton sat as still as he could, not wanting to disrupt his son's practice. He felt a tiny hand on his arm, "I got you."

Anton couldn't help but smile, "Almost. I won't fault you for the door, but I could hear your footsteps and breathing."

Hubert frowned. Anton put a hand on his head, scuffing up his son's hair, "You still have a ways to go, but you're getting better."

"How long did it take you to learn to be a spymasterer?" Hubert asked.

"Years. I don't even think I'm done yet. There are always new things to learn," Anton responded, "You're learning much quicker than I did, though."

The young boy beamed, dark green eyes bright. Alongside his stubbornness, he was determined to outpace his father, promising that someday he would be the best spymasterer. It was cute, but Anton could only hope that that determination was not used for evil instead of good. 

There was a knock on the door to the study, "Mister Vestra? Are you busy?"

Anton stood, turning towards the door, "Not at all."

The young maid cracked the door open. She'd just begun serving House Vestra and was still wary of the family. He supposed most people were wary of him and his son, after all the rumors and the untimely demise of his first two children four years ago, "You have a visitor."

He cocked a brow, "I don't recall inviting anyone over. Who is it?"

"Hanneman von Essar."

"Uncle Hanneman?" Huber beamed

Anton looked down at his son, raising his brows with a devious grin. Hubert returned the smile, already the spitting image of his father. He looked back up to the maid standing in the doorway, "Thank you. We'll be there shortly."

The maid left swiftly, eager to be away from the minister and his son. The moment she was gone from the doorway, Hubert crept out, scouting his route down the hall. Anton gave his son a head start before making his way to the parlor.

The parlor was by far the most welcoming room in the estate, as Anton had never bothered to change the antiquated decorations from an age of Vestras long passed or repaint the pearly white walls. It stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the rest of the mansion, but there were too many memories that would be erased if it were to be refurbished. The one detail that did stand out amongst the whites and golds and silvers of the room was a man dressed in a dark brown robe that matched his well-groomed hair. At his feet stood a young girl with messy shoulder-length curls only a little lighter than her father's, clad in a dark violet dress that matched her almond-shaped eyes. Anton smiled, leaning against the doorway, "You know, you can have a seat if you like."

The other man turned to him, eyes bright, "Anton! It's been too long," he said as his daughter took that as permission to sit on the gold-trimmed couch.

"Truly. I've missed your company," Anton agreed, "And how is Lorelei? She's grown since I last saw her."

At that moment, Anton watched as Hubert crept out from underneath the couch. Lorelei grinned, clearly in on his little game as well.

"She's been well. I fear her independent streak has only become more prominent. I think the maids are becoming fearful of her temper," Hanneman chucked, partially out of self-pity, "She has been asking to see Hubert for weeks. Speaking of which, where is he?"

Anton didn't spare his son a glance as to not give away his position, "He's just getting ready. He'll be here shortly."

"Already getting ready by himself? He's become so mature. I'll tell you, you got lucky with him."

Anton gave a half-hearted chuckle, "Well, I've had practice raising sons."

The smile fell from Hanneman's face. He opened his mouth to speak, which was quickly replaced with a yell of terror as something crashed into his legs from behind. Lorelei burst out laughing as the man turned to see the little boy clinging to his legs.

"I got you," Hubert crowed.

"Goddess above, Hubert, you nearly scared me out of my skin! Where did you learn how to do that?"

"I've been training him," Anton said proudly, "He insisted that he begin early, so he could best me sooner."

"He may well be leagues ahead of you already," Hanneman replied, touseling Hubert's hair.

"That's only because you already know my habits. You don't know his yet."

"Jealous, are we?"

"Father is jealous of me!" Hubert said happily.

"I am not," Anton defended, rolling his eyes, "Come on now Hubert, why don't you go play with Lorelei and let us grown-ups talk in peace."

Hubert nodded, running to fetch his friend before running off to another part of the estate. Anton took a seat on the couch, allowing himself to relax into the stiff cushions. Hanneman took a seat beside him, still sitting straight.

"Come now, you don't have to put on a show. I know you're exhausted."

Hanneman sighed, "And here I thought the toddler stage was the hardest part."

"It's never easy," Anton replied, "It's always difficult raising a child, especially when you've got other things to attend to and no wife to assist you."

The other man nodded, "I hoped that Lorelei would not have her mother's personality after she left, but it appears her attitude came from nature rather than nurture. You are lucky Hubert is so easy to manage. Perhaps that came from his mother?"

"Are you to imply that I am unmanageable?"

"No, I am just curious, since I never knew your second lover."

Anton winced, "Lover… would not be the correct way to put it. A fling would be more accurate." In all honesty, even that was too much to describe what had happened between himself and Hubert's mother. Experiment partner would be the best term for it.

"I see," Hanneman replied, "Something to get your mind off of what happened to Edward and August?"

"I suppose."

Hubert had been born a mere seven months after the two eldest Vestra sons were mysteriously murdered. Although the two events were correlated, it was not in the way that Hanneman suspected. Anton looked up at a painting hanging on the far wall of the parlor. He was sitting in a chair, and next to him stood two boys with dusty brown hair, smiling wide. He missed them dearly, but their death was for a good cause. 

"Well, at least Hubert is being good to you. I must say, I envy you in that."

Anton chuckled, "Being impressionable can be dangerous in our line of work. I hope Ionius and his children don't bend him too far out of shape."

"The nobility is a dangerous thing. I would be beside myself if Lorelei were to be so close to it.”

“She is close to the nobility, isn’t she? After all, she is your daughter, and she had a Major Crest of Indech, right?”

Hanneman sighed, “I have been meaning to tell you this for a while now… I left my house. Lorelei and I, we are no longer nobility.”

Anton’s eyes went wide, “What?”

“I am sorry. I was afraid, after what happened to my sister. I feared that Lorelei would suffer the same fate, and I could not bear the thought of it. I do not know what I would do if they hurt her as well.”

“So, what now? Where are you going to go?”

“Garreg Mach,” Hanneman replied, “She- we will be safe there. I can continue to study crests in peace. Maybe I can finally make up for not being able to protect my kin.”

Anton took a deep, shuddering breath, “I… I understand, friend. You have been through a lot. I would do it too if I could.”

“Why can’t you? You would be able to escape them. You could keep Hubert safe.”

The black-haired man opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off by a shriek of fear from somewhere else in the house. Hanneman jumped up, panicked, “That was Lorelei.”

Anton sprung out of his seat, following Hanneman as he ran down the halls, searching for the source of the cry. Anton ran to Hubert’s room, flinging open the door. His eyes went wide at what he saw.

Lorelei was backed into the corner, wild-eyed like cornered prey, gripping her burned hand. Hubert stood in the center of the room, gaseous purple flames erupting from his hand, burning what had formerly been a stuffed bear. Black hair shaded his face, blocking his eyes from sight.

Anton could feel his blood go cold. This… this was dark magic. His mother’s blood.

“Hubert, calm down.”

The boy’s head swiveled to face his father. Tears stained his cheeks, brows knit. 

But his eyes…

They weren’t green anymore.

It was as if they had faded, turning from leaf green to an eerie yellow.

Anton carefully picked him up, wincing as the miasma brushed against his arm, “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Hubert shook, burying his face into his father’s chest. His body went limp as the miasma faded before he put his hands over his ears. He whimpered, curling against Anton.

“Anton!” Hanneman hissed, eyes wide as he comforted Lorelei, who was still crying, “What in the Goddess's name just happened?”

The black-haired man shook his head, “I’m not sure,” he said, looking pointedly at Lorelei, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what is going on.”

Hanneman frowned, “Lorelei, I am going to need you to stand outside for a moment. I need to talk to Minister Vestra alone.”

The girl’s fiery spirit had been dampened by her fear and pain, and she went to sit outside Hubert’s room without complaint. Hanneman closed the door behind her, blocking Anton from trying to make an escape.

Anton drew a shaky breath, “I’m sorry. It’s a long story.”

“I have time. And I am not leaving without an explanation.”

Anton wrung his hands, “I suppose you may have figured by now, but Hubert’s mother… she was…”

Hanneman’s eyes went wide, “No…”

“It was part of the deal. They wanted an heir to a noble house to be one of them.”

He could see Hanneman putting the pieces together, “So you would kill your own sons?”

“To protect the future for the rest of them,” Anton said, “You know what would happen if we allowed Ionius to stay in power.”

Hanneman chuckled halfheartedly, “I am glad I left the nobility when I did. Now I can truly see how senseless you all are.”

“You know more about this than any of the rest of us.”

“No, I do not think I do,” Hanneman said, “And I do not want to either.”

He turned to leave when Anton spoke up, “Keep an eye on him for me when I’m gone. I have a hunch that he may get himself into trouble.”

“If he’s anything like his father, I am sure he will.”

Hanneman left, closing the door behind himself. Anton stood in the dark room, Hubert’s face still buried against his chest. He listened to his friend’s footsteps receding down the hall, still listening long past when they were out of earshot. His son shifted in his arms, pale eyes peering up at his father.

“I’m sorry Father. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault.”

“But I hurted Lorelei. I hurted you.”

“Yes, you did. But you didn’t mean to do it. You’re young. It’s okay that you can’t control your magic yet.”

Hubert’s eyes shone a little, “I have magic?”

Anton smiled, “Yes, you do. But it’s a little different from what the rest of us have. You got your magic from your mother, so it’s special.”

“But what if I hurt more people?”

“You were born to hurt people, and that's okay. Some people deserve to be hurt,” Anton explained, “As for those who do not deserve it, I will teach you how to control your magic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I almost didn't include this chapter.  
> I finally came up with birthdays for Alina and the twins: October 26(Alina) and October 5(Klara and Franklin).  
> It may be a while before I post the next chapter.


	17. In which a bright heart learns about his family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert goes to visit his father and learns about his family.

However ironic it was, the von Vestra mansion was often quite warm and bright. It was said that long ago the Vestras were cheery and charismatic people, and the only thing that made Hubert believe that was the vast windows placed to let sunlight through at all times of the day and the bright parlor that remained a pearly white and gold. The study had no efficient place for a candle, as though it were meant to be worked in when the sun was still shining and illuminate the desk in the center of the room by natural light. He was told as a young boy that the vast gardens behind the house used to be full of flowers of any color under the sun, from blood red roses and bright bluebells to the pastel purples of lilacs and lavender. Now the only things grown there were plants that could be used for poison, every single one of which Hubert knew the name of. The greenhouse that used to house tropical plants from Brigid and Dagda was now inhabited by a poison lab where Adrestia's most effective poisons were created. 

Now Hubert could only see the place as bleak and cursed. The home of power-hungry scum that had defiled the Empire. However much he hated the man though, Hubert knew he would have to talk to his father.

He strode down the estate halls, a bottle of wine in hand. The maids who worked the nearly empty estate gave him unusual looks- and for good reason. It was rare that Hubert ever visited the Vestra mansion, especially bearing a gift such as fine wine.

He went straight for his father's study. He'd spent most of his time there since Hubert was little, and the man was not known for being fond of a change of habit. He knocked sharply on the door to the small study. A few moments later, he heard the telltale creak of a chair and slow footsteps towards the door. The oak panel swung open to reveal a man who might have been tall if his posture weren't so slouched. Jet black hair hung in messy waves that reached his chin, shielding the sides of his all-too-pale, worn away face. His round violet eyes lit up from the dark circles that surrounded them when he recognized his son. He stood a little straighter, but not enough to reach above Hubert's eye level. He was still the same old vulture that he had always been.

"Son," he said, a weak smile crossing his thin lips, "It's been too long since you last came to visit."

"Yes, I agree," Hubert said through a forced smile, "I've brought some wine from Brigid."

"That sounds wonderful. Please, come in and have a seat."

Hubert followed the older man into the room. Over the years, his father had become increasingly docile as his age wore away at his former cunning. His death was well overdue.

Just as always, sunlight filtered through the thin shades that were pulled over the floor-to-ceiling windows. The desk and cabinets were cluttered and crammed with papers, and the books in the bookshelf had nearly doubled their original width due to all the notes stuck between their pages. Count Vestra pulled open a drawer and fished out two wine glasses, setting one in front of each of the two men, as well as a corkscrew. He promptly opened the bottle of wine, pouring it into their glasses.

"You're twenty now, right?"

"Twenty-one," Hubert corrected.

"Hmm. Pretty young to have a daughter, don't you think?" The older man asked without looking up.

"How do you know that?"

"I may be out of the job now, but you should know that I still have spies in Enbarr," he said calmly, "Remember, there are ears everywhere."

Hubert frowned. It was right back to his father's ways, reminding him of the lessons he had been taught as a little boy whenever he could, "I know, Father. You would never let me forget."

"Good to know I'm still useful for something,” he chuckled

_ Not really _ , Hubert thought to himself, but did not speak the words aloud. He needed to be on good terms with the old man if he wanted to get any information out of him.

"Now, surely you came for more than just idle chatter. What do you need?"

He took a deep breath. He'd never bothered to ask this question before. Only having one parent had always been the way he'd lived, after all, "What can you tell me about my mother?"

Marquis Vestra sighed, closing his eyes. Hubert took this opportunity, tearing open a small cloth pouch in his pocket and emptying its contents into his father's wine glass. The old man had been worn down so much over time, Hubert doubted his father would notice the arsenic slipped into his drink.

"You've never asked about your mother before. Why are you so curious now?"

"My daughter- Alina- she has a crest," it felt so strange to call her his daughter, as he had only met her once, "But it's not a crest of Cichol."

"Ah, right. I suppose that calls for an explanation. I only have vague memories of her left. We only met a few times. She was a kind enough woman. Excited to be a part of something as important as bearing my children, that was for sure. She was a sturdy young lady, from my understanding. She'd had lots of children before you and your siblings, though. Raikah, I believe her name was."

"My siblings?" Hubert asked. He'd never grown up with any siblings around. It had always just been him and his father.

"Yes, your siblings. There were three more in the womb with you. They all died before they were born, though. Raikah died too. Her father was not happy when she passed," He mused, "I thought I'd told you you’d taken lives before you were born?"

"I've heard that, but it was never given any context."

"Well, there you go. You took too many nutrients from Raikah and your siblings, so they died two months before you were supposed to be born. You were the only one that survived. Born at thirty-two weeks because you killed your mother before you were delivered."

Hubert nodded. Of course, he'd never met his mother, but he often wondered what she was like when he was young. He never expected that she would be…

"And Raikah. She was..."

"Yes, she was a Slitherer."

A shiver ran down Hubert's spine. Although he’d known for a long time, it was still unsettling to hear it confirmed.

"Why?" Hubert asked, "Why would you have a child with them?"

Marquis Vestra sighed, "I didn't have a choice. For them to assist in the Insurrection of Seven, they required an experiment to be performed. They wanted an heir to a noble house to be a part of them and bear a crest of their choosing. Most of the other leaders in the Insurrection already had crests that they did not want to interfere with the experiment, so they chose me."

Hubert felt his lips curl in disgust when his father brought up the Insurrection. The reason why Lady Edelgard was harmed, and now why he existed, "And tell me why you would participate in such a heinous act as the Insurrection? You abandoned your duties, your purpose. You threw it all away and harmed the people you were meant to protect."

His father chuckled before taking a large gulp of his wine, closing his eyes again as he thought up an answer- more an excuse for his actions. Age had taken its toll on the man. Marquis Vestra was the very person who told Hubert never to close his eyes or look away, not even for a fraction of a second when in a meeting, especially with someone who harbored ill will towards oneself. 

"Well, I suppose it would be hard to explain. You younger folks always think I'm lying because that's not how things are now. But, maybe it will be worth an attempt," Marquis Vestra sighed, shaking his head, "Emperor Ionius IX was a brash man when he was young. Wild and difficult to control. He was always a brat, but when he ascended the throne, the power got to his head. He became greedy and dictatorial, ruling us like dogs. The other influential houses were concerned that he would take their lands or spark another war in his lust for power. We came together in secret and decided that the most effective way to stop him would be to strip him of his power and split it evenly among ourselves. It was a hard choice but it was what I decided would be best."

"And why did you think that would work?" Hubert asked with a snarl, "Why would you trust those wretched creatures to help you?"

"Come now, let a man tell his story," his father said calmly.

"I'm not here for a story, I'm here for answers."

"And if you're not patient, you won't get them."

As if to prove his point, Marquis Vestra swallowed down the rest of his wine. Now it was only a matter of time before the arsenic poisoning took effect, "We did what we thought would be best at the time. Duke Aegir was having trouble gaining a human following, so he readily accepted their support when they offered. I was doing what I believed was right."

"But you abandoned your duty! You betrayed the Empire. You killed the heirs!"

"None of that was me," Marquis Vestra said, sorrow in his voice, "Had I the choice, I would have saved them, but that was not my part in the bargain."

"Did you even try?" Hubert snarled.

His father shook his head, "Defying them would have ended the treaty. They would have killed both of us on the spot."

"To hell with us! Your job is to protect the Emperor, no matter what it may cost you!" He spat, "You're scum, a stain on the von Vestra legacy."

"But what would I be if I couldn't protect what I cared for? What if I chose my duty over the well-being of the masses? I would be worse than scum then, wouldn't I?"

"You should have only cared for the Emperor's well-being. That was your job, and you failed so miserably that you hurt the very people you were meant to protect."

Marquis Vestra sighed, "Of course, you can only see things how they appear now. I guess I can't convince you otherwise. Not that I have much time left to try."

Hubert snorted, "I'm surprised you're still aware enough to notice."

"I knew you were here to kill me from the moment you stepped in the door," the minister said, gesturing to the bottle on the table, "Next time you poison someone, use coffee instead. You don't even like wine."

Hubert didn't grace his father's criticism with a response. He wished he'd used cyanide instead, so the pathetic old man would be dead already.

The older man stood up, walking around the desk to stand in front of his son, "We may have different convictions and goals, but you've done well. I'm proud to call you my son. You never gave up on what you believed in," he laughed, "I must say, I almost envy you in that."

"I do not need your lies," Hubert choked out, "Just die like the beast you are."

Marquis Vestra chuckled weakly, "I'm afraid I'm not the beast here."

The younger man couldn't move as a hand reached for him. Thin fingers ran through his overgrown bangs, pushing them away from his face to reveal his other pale eye. The frail hand gently tousled his jet black locks, just as they had done so many years ago. He remained still as his father's hand pulled back, leaving his hair askew. The older man slowly turned his hand to look at his fingertips, smeared with the black oil that he'd wiped from his son's hair. Deep violet eyes trailed up to the side of Hubert's head, where flecks of hair the color of fresh snow had been revealed.

"So I see it's begun," the older man muttered quietly, looking back to his stained hand, “Be careful, son. It’s a dangerous world out there, especially for someone like you."

"I don't care about my own safety. Lady Edelgard is my only concern."

"It'll be dangerous for her, too. And your little girl. You'd best keep this in the dark as long as you can."

"I don't need you to tell me that," Hubert hissed, "Besides, I fear that I do not have much time left."

Marquis Vestra sighed, "I was afraid it might come to this. Follow your path as long as you can. If this is what you believe is right, so be it. Saying otherwise would put me as low as Heinrich."

"You reached his level long ago, old man."

"You know, it's tradition for the Vestra sons to succeed their fathers by killing them. It's a test of willpower to show that they will do anything for their liege, regardless of connections. You are beyond my own skills now. You are truly ready to serve your duty to the Hresvelg family."

"I don't need you telling me what I am ready for. I have assessed my own skill level, and frankly, this was the easiest assassination I've ever carried out," Hubert spat, turning away from the old man.

"I'm proud of you, Hubert. As long as you follow your own convictions, that will never change"

Hubert left the study, closing the door behind him. It could take anywhere from a few hours to a couple of days for the old man to finally die. For now, he would just have to make a clean escape.

His father’s words echoed in his ears as he mounted his horse. Somewhere deep down, pride burned from his father’s compliments.

Hubert shook his head. Those words meant nothing from such a despicable man. He kicked his horse into a gallop, fleeing from his father and his meaningless words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was kind of random, but I included the detail about Hubert's other siblings because I might write an AU where the rest of the quadruplets live. Also yes, there is a tiny Naruto reference(And the older Vestra sons are both named after anime protagonists!)
> 
> It might be a while before I post the next chapter, so apologies in advance!


	18. In which their paths are divergent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard goes to talk to Ferdinand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry I haven't posted in forever! I've been struggling with a bit of a roadblock for this fic.

Edelgard watched as the sun sank lower in the sky, slowly drifting away for the night. Her duty only lasted as long as the sun was visible over the horizon. Once it was out of sight, she was free to attend dinner and turn in for the night. From dusk till dawn, it was the Minister of the Imperial Household's job to see to anyone coming for the Emperor. Although there was nobody there to watch her post tonight, Edelgard was sure it would be fine if she were gone for an hour or so. Hanneman wasn't supposed to arrive for a few more days anyway. 

Once the sky had faded to a deep indigo, Edelgard stood from her throne. The corridors of the hallways were often empty this time of day, as all of the staff had gone to have dinner. Her stomach rumbled with anticipation for tonight's meal, but she has more work to attend to before she could rest.

She focused on the sound of her boots hitting the stone carpeted floor below her feet. Although he had become an enemy the moment he chose to side with the Kingdom, she still missed Ferdinand. Though he'd been a bother for a long time, he had still been a friend. After the Insurrection, and whenever she was struggling, he'd been there for her. It only felt fair that at his lowest point she was there for him too.

Edelgard shook her head. No, friendship was not the reason she was going to talk to him. She needed information about his baby. Maybe she would be able to coax an answer out of him before Hanneman came. If she could get what she wanted, they might be able to end this war sooner.

They could end this war before more children and innocent people bled out on the streets. As a father himself, maybe Ferdinand would understand and give her what she needed.

She would also get to see Alina again. However much she tried not to care, she missed Alina. She'd only stopped nursing the babe a week ago, and her breasts were still heavy and aching.

The carpet abruptly turned to stone when she entered the Old Palace. There was no carpeting here, as it was much older than the rest of the palace and the floor below was made completely of smoothed cobblestone rather than hardwood like the rest of the palace. Edelgard rarely came here, as there wasn't much business going on in this sector.

Two guards were posted outside the room at the end of the hall. They were giggling between each other, but immediately stood in attention when they saw the Emperor approaching.

"Your Majesty," the first guard said, flustered, "It's unusual to see you in this part of the Palace."

Edelgard nodded, "This is where Ferdinand is being held, correct?"

"Yes, your Majesty," the second guard answered, "Would you like some privacy?"

"Yes, thank you."

The first guard nodded, opening the door for her to enter. The room beyond was cold and bare, the only furniture being an old dresser, a desk, and a canopy bed that could have been built a century ago. The floral wallpaper was dulled and peeling, and most of the surfaces were coated in dust, which gave the air a musty smell.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw who was sitting on the bed. She knew he would be here, but that didn't make it any less stressful.

And in his arms…

Oh, Alina. She already looked bigger than the last time Edelgard had seen her. She was not her own child, but Edelgard's heart swelled with pride as she nursed at her father's chest.

However, a harsh voice cut through the peaceful air, 

"Edelgard," Ferdinand hissed, "Have you yet to learn that it is rude to stare at someone else's bosom?"

She snapped back to attention. Right. Alina was not her priority, "It is good to see you again, Ferdinand."

He stared at her for a long moment, as if sizing her up, "You would not come here without reason. What do you want from me?"

Edelgard wrung her hands together. Countless months of diplomatic training, and she was lost for words in front of one of her oldest friends.

But he was not her friend anymore. He had chosen Dimitri and Faerghus over her and the Empire, so he was the enemy. Deep down, she could feel a crack splintering across her heart.

"Just answers," she said finally, her eyes landing on Alina as to not make eye contact with Ferdinand.

"Give me a reason to tell them to you."

This was not the Ferdinand she had once known, open and kind and cheerful. All of his warm light had been stripped away, leaving a defensive, broken husk of the man she had once called her friend.

"Because I couldn't bear to let them hurt you or Alina."

"I am not afraid of you," Ferdinand growled, "You have already tried to beat me. But you have failed. I am still here. And I can see it in your eyes that you do not have the strength to hurt me. And if you so much as lay a hand on my daughter, I will personally see to adding an extra joint in your arms."

Edelgard shuddered, "What happened to you?," she asked quietly, "You're not Ferdinand von Aegir."

"You are right," he hissed, "I am just Ferdinand now. I have lost everything. My power. My title. My life. I am not the same person."

"I'm… sorry." That was all Edelgard could muster.

"Even if I did know anything about the location of the Blue Lions or the Knights of Seiros, I would not tell you."

Ferdinand pulled Alina closer to him, not taking his eyes off of Edelgard. She was the enemy. They had once been friends, but no longer. He did not want to think about what she would do to Alina if she had the chance.

But somehow, only half of him believed that. Something about her, the way she looked at him and his daughter, was somehow different as well. Her eyes were no longer frozen and unreadable, her nerves exposed in a way he had never seen before. In the ten months since he had last seen her, it felt as though everyone had changed. He shook his head. That was not an excuse to lower his guard.

"As far as you are concerned, I have no information. Now, unless you have anything else to say, you should be going."

"If nothing else, then just one thing," Edelgard said, still refusing to meet his eyes, "Do you know who her father is?"

Ferdinand snorted, "Surely you would have figured it out by now. He was never any good at keeping secrets from you."

Her eyes grew wide. For the first time, she looked directly at him, "Hubert?"

As if she understood, Alina started whimpering as soon as her father's name was mentioned. Ferdinand quickly turned his attention to his daughter, quietly shushing her and rocking her. Although she quickly stopped, just that was enough to cause Edelgard's swollen breasts to leak through her dress. She hissed a curse under her breath, but just loud enough to catch Ferdinand's attention.

The young man stared at the growing wet patches on the front of Edelgard's dress. Despite himself, Ferdinand couldn't help but ask, "Why are you…?"

The Emperor sighed. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, fists clenching on the sleeves of her dress, "When you were sick… I couldn't bear to watch a child die in front of me when there was something I could do."

Ferdinand watched her silently for a long moment, waiting for her to say it was a joke. When she didn't, he looked down at Alina, looking back up at him with her big, baby blue eyes. She smiled, giggling and reaching for his face. If not for his enemy, she would be dead right now. He would have never been able to meet his daughter. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. He tried once more, just barely spitting out the words, "Thank you."

Edelgard nodded, "It was the only thing I could do." She bit her lip, clearing her throat before the words would come out, "You know, I feel that we want the same thing. We both want this war to be over as soon as possible, so as few people as possible die. Less blood of innocent people and children spilled on the streets. If you were to help me… We could save more people."

Ferdinand slowly shook his head. He looked up at her, and for the first time, she saw the tiniest spark of the man she used to know, with kind, passionate eyes, "I am sorry, but we do not want the same thing. Your future is not one I believe in. It is not the future I want for myself or my daughter."

They were both silent for a long moment. Edelgard shuddered. She had tried, and still Ferdinand had not joined her. She knew this meant he would be hurt. Alina would be hurt. Although she could not bear the thought, she could not change his mind.

Ferdinand knew choosing to side against Edelgard was dangerous, but he could not just change his mind about this. He could not just sit by and let Edelgard's dream come to fruition. However much it hurt him to put his daughter in danger now, he had to protect their future as well.

Besides, in the waning of his postpartum, he had grasped a sliver of his former confidence. Not all was hopeless if he could make an escape.

Edelgard turned away without speaking another word. She wanted to leave, to be away from the girl whom she had nursed at her own breast and the friend who had been with her through thick and thin.

They were the enemy now.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't much, but I hope it may sate you all for the time being. It will probably be a long time before I post another chapter of this fic, but there are more that I am working on.


	19. In which conditions change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert talks with Hanneman after he returns from the Vestra Estate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE!  
> I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit all over the place, I had to reread the entire fic to remind myself of it after nearly 6 months. But hey, at least I have half a plan of how I want to close out the first act!

Between the long ride from the Vestra estate and the restless nights haunted by what must have been his father's ghost, Hubert arrived in Enbarr more tired than he had been in years. He felt as though he had stones tied to his ankles as he made his way through the palace, though he tried his best to hide his exhaustion. However much he desperately needed to fetch some coffee, his duty to the Empire came first.

Making his way to the throne room was a hazy blur, but when he reached it, guards were posted outside and the grand red-and-gold doors were shut tight. He sighed, making to knock on the door before he was stopped short by one of the guards.

"Sorry… uh… sir," they said, shuffling, "But the Emperor is in a meeting right now."

"With whom?"

"Hanneman von Essar, sir."

Hubert grunted. Well, at least that would give him some time to make himself presentable. He turned, making his way back to his quarters without another word.

He wasn't sure how far or how long he'd been walking, his feet knew the path to his room without any guidance. He knew every path throughout the palace, every narrow hallway and secret passage that it would be no exaggeration to say he could navigate all blindfolded. So, of course in his sleep-hazed state, he didn't notice something obstructing his path until he ran right into it.

Hubert stumbled back in surprise, and the figure he'd ran into fell to the ground with an "oomph." The servant groaned, sitting up.

"Hey, what's your deal?" She snapped, but immediately wished she'd swallowed her words instead as her bright green eyes went wide. She scrambled to her feet, only to be tugged aside by her fellow servant. Hubert didn't have the energy to care, mumbling some halfhearted word of warning before carrying on his way.

Hubert grasped the ornately carved door handle to his quarters, breathing slowly as he allowed his magic to flow into it. The lock clicked, and the handle gave as he pushed the door open. The windows on the far wall overlooked a garden that was no more than snarled brush and empty soil this early in the year. Very few quarters in the Imperial Palace had their own kitchens, but as a servant to the Emperor, it was important that he have the ability to cook a meal in case there was some concern about the kitchen staff. He didn't even bother to lock the door behind himself,  _ whatever, I'll just be in and out,  _ he thought.

Hubert pulled a bag of coffee grounds from the cupboard of his kitchenette. Rumor had it someone in Fhirdiad had invented a machine that made coffee automatically. However lazy it was, Hubert had to admit at times like this that he wished he had access to such an invention as he tied a filter down over the top of a tall glass cylinder. Although not as warm as true fire, his miasma could be used to heat things when needed. When the liquid was nearly at a boil, he poured it over the grounds, watching it slowly drip through into the bottom of the container.

Hubert took a deep breath as the smell of brewing coffee filled the air, beginning to chase off the exhausted haze in his mind. His thoughts that had just been out of reach, a fuzzy outline of an idea became clearer. Even so, they were just out of reach. All he knew for certain was that it was something about green. Perhaps, grass, or leaves of a plant he needed to gather?

He grabbed a mug from the cabinet, pouring the dark liquid into it. He sighed as he took a gulp of the coffee, making him finally feel fully awake. He thought back to what was bothering him, hoping it was clearer.

_ Green, green… What was it about the color green?  _

_ Green… eyes? _

It all clicked into place. That servant's green eyes, they were so distinct, so bright and so… familiar.

He knew he'd seen her before, but where? He shook his head, and then took another sip of his coffee.

The face that came to his mind was…

Ferdinand?

No, that couldn't be right. Ferdinand's eyes were orange, he was sure of it, after so many nights imagining those beautiful…

Hubert was losing his mind.

He groaned, eyes shut tight as he leaned against the wall. Think, Hubert!

It was just evading his grasp, and it was going to drive him mad.

Flames, maybe he already was mad. With the thought of Ferdinand in his head, he could feel himself spinning out of control. His thoughts were becoming a blur, and his hands began to tremble. He grabbed the counter in an attempt to ground himself, but when he opened his eyes, the room was spinning. As if it were molasses being stirred, his vision twisted and morphed. Everything turned different shades of the same sickly yellow-green as small black dots appeared on the walls.

"Hubert."

He froze. He knew that voice.

"Hubert!"

He spun around, breath catching in his throat at what he saw.

Ferdinand. Black tears stained his cheeks, eyes burning with rage and grief. He held an empty blanket in his arms.

"I-I'm–"

He didn't have time to think of an excuse or apology before Edelgard appeared from the void behind Ferdinand as the black dots collided as they expanded. He swallowed as he saw the disappointment in her eyes. A crushing headache began to set in as he stared at them.

"I told you not to do this, yet you did not listen. I have no use for you, monster," she said, voice cold as Fhirdiad in the winter. She turned to leave.

"Wait!" Hubert shouted, panicked. He ran after her, running straight through Ferdinand before he crashed into the wall. He yelped, stumbling back. He wasn't sure how long he fell, for all he knew it could have been hours before he finally hit the floor with a thud that echoed through the void around him. He let out a pathetic noise as he clutched his head, feeling as though his skull were being crushed beneath the foot of a Titanus. He shut his eyes tight, trying desperately to block out the hallucinations and crushing pain, but it was no use.

"Hubert!"

He pulled his knees to his chest, as it was the only thing he could do.

"By the Goddess Hubert, Are you alright?"

He flinched as he felt something touch his shoulder. He slowly shifted to his hands and knees, wincing as he opened his eyes to the twisted landscape once again. Now there was a new figure in front of him.

"Hanneman?"

The older man was kneeling in front of him. He helped Hubert to sit back on his heels, holding his shoulders, "What on Earth is going on with you?"

"I'm not–" Hubert cut himself off as he felt bile rising in his throat. He gagged, bending forwards before vomiting across what he could see of the floor.

The last thing he heard before his vision blacked out was Hanneman calling his name as he fell unconscious.

********

Hubert wasn't sure how long it was before he woke again. All he knew was that he was in his bed, and everything hurt like hell. He groaned, rolling onto his side, trying to avoid the little light in the room.

"So, you're finally awake."

Hubert winced as he opened his eyes. His vision was still blurry and his head throbbed, but he was able to make out the color of his former professor's coat and his voice.

"Hanneman?" He asked, hating how pathetic he sounded, "H-how… why are you here?"

"I'd finished my meeting with Edelgard and found it rather imperative that I come and talk to you," he explained, "But when I came, you appeared to be in distress."

Hubert wheezed out a laugh, wincing at the pulsating pain in his head, "You could say that," he swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to his throat, "So, what poison was in the coffee?"

"Poison?"

"Clearly. I am immune to most poisons, but this one seemed to affect me."

Hanneman hummed, "What were your symptoms? Well, aside from nausea."

"A horrible headache, and," he shivered, trying not to think about what he'd seen, "Hallucinations."

Hanneman chuckled, "I'm afraid those aren't symptoms of any poison. And you say this was your first time experiencing it? That's surprising."

"What do you mean?" Hubert growled, wincing as pain seared across his skull.

"It sounds like an intolerance to caffeine," he explained, "The same thing happened to Lysithea once when I gave her some black tea on accident."

"That's impossible. I've been drinking coffee for years, and this has never happened before," Hubert scoffed, "And what does Lysithea have to do with this?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure why, but it appears that those who have been… meddled with, let's say, by the slitherers have an intolerance to caffeine. Drinking even a little results in hallucinations, nausea, and crushing migraines," he said. Hanneman looked up, not quite meeting Hubert's eyes but just above them, "And it appears you've had a development in your own condition."

Hubert reached up, hand shaking, and brushed his fingers along where he knew one of the white streaks was. Sure enough, no oil came off when he touched it, "Was it like that when you found me?"

Hanneman shook his head, "No, it wiped off on your pillowcase."

Hubert paused, "So you know?"

"That you're half slitherer? Yes, I've known for a while."

Hubert winced as Hanneman said it with such ease.

"But why now?"

Hanneman hummed, "If I had to guess, I'd say the sudden changes are due to stress. As a father myself, I can imagine you've experienced quite a bit of that lately."

Hubert swallowed, "How do you know that?"

"Edelgard told me."

_ What? _ Hubert could feel panic beginning to build in his chest? How did she know? He knew he hadn't told her… Flames, she would be furious that he hadn't. But, even worse…

"I trust you didn't tell her about… this?" he asked, gingerly touching his hair again.

"Of course not," Hanneman confirmed, "But you know, she will find out eventually, especially now that Alina exists. And they will find out as well."

Hubert swallowed. He was not sure which would be worse, Edelgard's fury when she figured out who he truly was, or the threat of the torture the slitherers would subject him to upon learning about Alina's existence.

But if they were after him, surely they would come for Ferdinand as well…

"Flames," Hubert whispered, "What have I done?"

"You're playing a dangerous game, my boy," Hanneman said, "I will do all that I can for you, but there are difficult decisions ahead that you alone can make."

He nodded slowly, head spinning again, "When will I be well enough to return to my duties?"

"By tomorrow, I'd imagine. The sickness is awful, but it does not last long."

"Good."

Hanneman chuckled, "I know you do not want to hear it, but perhaps you are more like Anton than I thought."

"Do not compare me to that–" Hubert barked, but was cut off by his own yelp of pain.

"Make the decision that you believe is right. Follow your convictions and goals, and you will find your place." Hanneman said, "It's a piece of advice I gave to Lorelei long ago. I do not like the path she chose, but who knows? Maybe she too will end up changing the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy End of 2020 and best wishes to everyone in the new year! A lot has changed since I last posted, mostly in a good way. Part of the reason I haven't posted in forever though is because this story was a major coping mechanism for me, and I've been much more mentally healthy, so I haven't needed to cope as much. I will try my best to keep posting every once in a while though!


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